


I Have Heard the Bullets Whistle (Something Charming in the Sound)

by thewolvesintherain



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: HYDRA is it's own warning, Holocaust, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, Mentions of human experimentation and other lovely Nazi shit, Steve and Bucky and fluff, Steve breaks things, This is not historically or geographically accurate, all rape/non-con is in the past, but it gets a bit intense at times, image rich, it's honestly mostly just domestic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 19:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 28,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11835243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolvesintherain/pseuds/thewolvesintherain
Summary: In which Steve Rogers makes a new life post Wakanda, flips off the UN, buys Bucky a rabbit, makes peace with the Starks, (past and present) and finally lays down his burdens for good.Or, 2016 will go down in history as the year Steve Rogers breaks everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: (This is sure to be a million words long, apologies in advance.)
> 
> This fic was written as a part of the Steve Bucky Big Bang 2017. Since today's the first day of posting, and I am not asleep, here you go night owls!
> 
> The title is actually a quote from George Washington! It was in a letter he wrote his brother after his first battle (French and Indian War, 1754). The full text is, "The right wing, where I stood, was exposed to and received all the enemy's fire ... I heard the bullets whistle, and, believe me, there is something charming in the sound."  
> There's no relevance to this other than the fact that I found it interesting. 
> 
>  
> 
> I'm using Aaron Eckhart's Ben Asher from Olympus has fallen as the fictional president in this, for several reasons, mostly that I don't want to get into the absolute clusterfuck that was 2016 in regards to politics, world events, etc.  
> Not gonna do it. So Benjamin Asher is president, Mike Banning is his head of secret service/best friend. The fic is set with the assumption that Asher was elected the previous year and the very bad thing on the bridge hasn't happened yet.  
> There will be notes for each chapter, as I'm feeling chatty. Holocaust mentions and medical torture will be dinged in the top notes for each chapter, so you should have some warning before you hit anything. Let me know if I miss one, please!
> 
> Jessie Lucid provided the wonderful art to this fic, which appears in chapter 10. They are on A03 as lucidnancyboy, so please go check them out. They also took time out of their lives to read and comment, which I'm incredibly grateful for, as well as the indomitable chemicallywrit.

Bucky genuinely doesn’t know how he got to Wakanda.

He knows he’s in Wakanda because he can hear the rainforest outside of the hospital window, and also the bed he’s on is too damn soft to be his flophouse in Romania.

There’s no pain from the shredded metal in his shoulder, very little pain from the back of his head where his migraines usually form. He feels numb but not loopy, and he’s coordinated enough to push his remaining arm up under himself and sit up on the side of the bed.

The room they’ve got him in is pretty swanky, with tinted windows instead of drapes. He can still see outside of the room, and the part of his brain that’s still locked in Assassin mode appreciates it.

There’s plenty of room to move around in the suite they've given him and Steve. There’s the bed he’s on, with the medical equipment pushed back into the wall. There are still monitors on the bed, but the only thing connected to him is the IV port in his chest, for the fluids and the painkillers the doctors keep giving him.

The couch is on the other side of the room, with a couple of other chairs around a low coffee table.

There’d been a Steve sized lump on the couch when Bucky had woken last. He’d called out and Steve had helped him to the bathroom and then opened the bottle of water and held it for him while he drank most of it.

There’s a bottle of water still on the nightstand, but the couch is empty, the blankets rucked back like their occupant had left in a hurry.

His heart jerks in his chest, and he calls out a tremulous, “Steve?”

Someone comes to the door, T’Challa, he realizes. The other man moves towards him smoothly, telling him, “I’m sorry my friend, I meant to be here when you woke.”

Bucky just stares at him, trying to make it less obvious that he’s looking around for Steve while the other man opens the bottle of water for him and holds it out. T’Challa tells him, “Captain Rogers has gone to retrieve his compatriots from the prison they are being held in. He told me to relay his apologies to you, as well as to let you know that he should be back soon.”

Bucky nods, unsurprised by this at all. He’d known that Steve’d be going back for their friends as soon as humanly possible. He’s just hoping that Steve didn’t rush the humanly possible part of that plan. He couldn’t go and drag the lug out of a fight this time.

T’Challa is still moving about the room, getting him the remote for the television that he hadn’t noticed set into one wall, as well as the phone in case he wants to talk to anyone.

And who T’Challa thinks he’s talking to he has no idea, but oh well. It’s a nice gesture at least. 

He closes his eyes for a minute, as the pain in his head overwhelms him for a solid second, then opens them to find T’Challa watching him worriedly, a hand almost reached out to steady him.

Bucky takes a deep breath, tells T’Challa -

“Actually man - it’s you I need to talk to for a minute.”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve doesn't really remember the fight against Stark much at all. Honestly, from what he's heard from Bucky, it's not exactly an affair to remember. The whole thing is such a cluster, that he's not really surprised that when he looks back on it that only a few things stand out to him.

Bucky's screaming.

The look on Tony's face.

"There's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes"

Sam has a word for what he does when things in his life get really tough: dissociating. He has opinions on it too, that Steve should be seeing someone, that he should be talking to people, that it's entirely possible that he should be on medication. Steve has heard him discussing these opinions with people when he forgets that Steve's a super soldier, and going out to the hall to have your phone conversations when you think he's sleeping doesn't quite cut it with him.

"How nice to find a flaw."

Sam's gonna have to settle for the fact that Steve is settled and present in his own head when he gets to the raft. He breaks Clint out first, the man is bruised to hell. Clint moves to Wanda's cell and then yells, "Get Wilson. I can handle Scott."

Scott, indeed, seems to be the calmest in this particular situation. Maybe it's because he's done hard time before.

Either way, when he gets to Sam's cell, the sight that greets him makes his blood run cold. Sam has struggled up to his feet, but there's blood, on his shirt, and even worse in sick little puddles on the floor. He's still smiling when he sees Steve, though it's worn thin with pain and fatigue. He motions for the man to stand back, then pops the door open and just flat out picks Sam up. He argues a little at first but Steve won't hear it, and he ends up carrying Sam back to the Quinjet. The man's obviously trying to stay stoic, but Steve can hear the pained little gasps he can't quite stifle when Steve jars him.

They get to the quinjet and Steve helps Sam buckle in, lets Clint take care of getting Wanda settled. Once Clint's up in the pilot's seat switching on the plane and everyone else is buckled in he bends down to look at Sam's feet, which are just trashed. It looks like - it looks like someone took a coat hanger to them, they're bruised and swollen and oozing blood where the welts have split.

He swallows down his gorge before calling, "Clint. Can you hit autopilot?"

"Yeah man, hold on."

Clint winces when he sees Sam's feet, before murmuring, "Go get the first aid kit." and then addressing Sam, telling him, "We're getting the good stuff, 'kay man?"

Sam is unfocused and blurry with pain, but when Steve comes back from the back with the shock blanket in one arm and the first aid kit in the other, he stops Clint's hand as he searches for a vein and asks, "Where's Barnes? You got him right?"

Steve just nods, tells him, "I got him."

Buck is currently sleeping off a fentanyl patch in the King of Wakanda's infirmary. The doctors had finally managed to find the neural connections for his arm and shut off the agony he'd been in after Tony's repulsor blast. He'd subsided to exhaustion pretty quickly afterward.

Sam nods then, and he lets Clint give him a hit of morphine and Steve wrap the blanket around him. He falls asleep on Steve's shoulder on the way back, doesn't wake when Steve carries him into the infirmary in Wakanda either.

T’Challa looks absolutely apoplectic with rage when he sees Wilson when he sees Wanda too, but he doesn’t say much, letting the doctors get in and do their work. He does, however, tell Steve, “I need to speak with you, my friend.”

He doesn’t say much when T’Challa tells him, just nods, asks, “It’s his choice? He wanted to - “

T’Challa nods, says, “Your friend is very concerned about the wellbeing of others. He does not want to do anything to risk that.”

And yeah, that’s Buck. That’s Buck all over.

T’Challa tries to comfort him, tells him, “My science department is already working on some ideas. This isn’t permanent, Steve. It won’t be, all right?”

He closes his eyes, nods. Bucky deserves to have - some peace of mind if nothing else. He deserves to sit back and take it easy for a little while. Steve’ll have to clean up the mess himself this time.

He tells T’Challa, “I’m gonna go see him. While - “

He chokes on the words out of his mouth, While I still can lingering heavy and thick in the air. T’Challa just nods, clasping his shoulder gently for a moment before walking away and leaving him to collect himself for a few moments.

Clint and Sam both end up going for CAT scans because they've been tortured for information about where he is. And they hadn't told Ross anything. Not a thing, because Bucky is still alive and breathing and lying on the bed in front of him while Steve holds his hand.

"Not torture, Steve. Enhanced interrogation. Really."

It doesn't make him feel better that Clint can joke about it. It doesn't make him feel better at all.

Clint comes back first, while they're still trying to figure out what to do about Sam's feet, tells Steve.

"We gotta figure out what we're doing here man."

Steve nods, slowly, but honestly? He's out. He's tapped.

Every atom of his being had been focused on Bucky, on making Bucky safe, on keeping Tony from killing him.

He's achieved this now, and his head feels stuffed with cotton wool. Cloudy, and far away from everything else.

Clint sighs, then tells him, "I'll make a couple of calls. Put your head down a little, huh? At least try to sleep."

It's the best suggestion he's heard in a couple of days at least, and he obeys it, head down by Bucky's hip, hands still tangled up together.


	3. Chapter 3

The first call Clint makes is to his wife. The first call Clint makes is always to his wife.

He dials the number without even looking, says, "Hey babe," and then very quickly pulls the phone away from his ear as Laura begins to unleash two weeks worth of frustration and worry and stonewalling from the state department.

Once it's safe for him to listen at normal distance again, they manage to quickly hash out their main problem, (He's a wanted international fugitive again) and their secondary ones (Everything's broken, the CIA still has several troubling black sites, he's out of a job, his children have declared hatred, he actually feels like he's been run over by a truck.) She lets him go with an, "I love you. Please stop breaking things."

He makes no promises.

The second call is to Mike Banning. He opens with, "So, I'm in the shit."

"Ya think? I'm sure you have some excuse."

"I need to talk to Asher, Mike."

Mike starts to blow him off, but Clint says, "Hey! This is me, okay? I'm in the shit, that's fine, I'll get out. It's not about that. I need to talk to Asher. It's serious. It's a big deal."

"Yeah, ok. Can he call you? Like video chat? Tomorrow?"

"That works."

Steve and Bucky have been cloistered together ever since Barnes has announced his intentions to go back under, so Clint checks on the rest of the team.

Wanda's still sleeping, curled up in a safe bed, and absolutely exhausted. Scott's playing solitaire on the floor right next to her, and he waves Clint off when he makes a questioning face, murmuring, "We're fine man. Check on Wilson."

Wilson is high. He's also more than happy to borrow Clint's phone and call his mom.

Clint holds the phone away from his ear for the yelling part, then wanders away until they wrap it up. Pretends he doesn't hear Wilson's voice get thick in some parts, doesn't clog when he says, "I love you too Momma."

Clint gets it. He knows. He sits by Wilson and watches some sort of game show - turns out reality tv is the same through a lot of cultures - while the man speaks softly, and slowly about the raft, about everything that’d happened when he and Clint had been separated. Clint doesn’t say anything, just lets him talk, listens to him the way people need to be listened to sometime. His patience pays off as Sam gets a lot of things off of his chest, especially the part where he huffs out a rough sob and tips his head back, whispers, “I’m so glad Barnes is all right though man. I couldn’t - and then when I told Tony - I told Tony where to find them - so much of this is my fault.”

“No. No, Sam. None of this is your fault okay? You did your best. It was such a shitty situation for everybody - “

Sam is shaking his head, whispers, “I can’t - if Stark would have killed him, Clint. If he would’ve hurt him even more - “

He’s overwrought, finally thinking about what might have been, and Clint can do nothing but hold onto his arm and gently as he can and murmur soft, meaningless things until his pain meds hit and he tires out. He tells the medical staff that Sam absolutely needs to talk to somebody since he doesn’t think that he’ll ever share any of what he just said with Steve. He texts Steve that he needs to talk to Sam later when they’re both feeling up to it.

That night is one of those dull ones, the heat from outside creeping in past the AC's best efforts. Barnes and Steve make an appearance for dinner, though it’s short. Barnes is moving slowly and like he’s in a lot of pain, and Steve is hovering over him, though he takes the time to see Sam where he’s sitting up in an armchair, feet in an ottoman. He’s trying to apologize for a long minute, until Sam takes a playful swipe at his head, giving him a half-noogie/half-hug. He keeps him there for a minute, until Steve relaxes, then tells him softly, “Go be with your boy tonight man. We’ll talk about it in the morning, ‘kay?”

Steve nods softly and goes back to sit by Bucky, and Clint meanders back over to Sam, sitting in the armchair by his feet and sharpening his knife, talking about some terrible experience he and Banning had had in the ‘Stan. They figure out that Clint and Sam been about twenty miles apart at one point, which Scott finds ridiculously impressive for some reason. They linger well into the night until Wanda falls asleep on the couch and even Scott stops his constant fidgeting and dozes off. Sam doesn’t seem to want to sleep, so Clint gets the rest of the knives he keeps in his jacket and works his way through the rest of those, well into the dawn.

They put Bucky under in the morning. Steve's an absolute fucking champ about it until about thirty minutes later, when he walks outside and tries to break his hand on the outside infirmary wall.

Clint can't pull him off. He tries, but the man is like a force of nature, and in the end, all Clint can do is sit down and wait him out, talk to him softly once he gives up on destroying the wall and leans back against it instead, sobbing like his hearts being ripped out of him.

He doesn't say anything for a long minute, looking up into the sky that's bleached out by the heat and the sun, before he finally murmurs, "Anything. I'd give anything."

"Yeah, man. I know."

Clint does know is the thing, and Steve must hear it in his voice, because he turns to him, asks with such naked hope that it hurts Clint to see it, "When does it get better?"

Clint tells him, “That I don’t know.” HIs own wounds are still raw after fifteen years of them, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell Steve that the chances of him getting over this, of Bucky getting over this all the way - are slim to fucking none.

There are some things you can’t forgive. Some pain you can’t forget either.

Steve leans his head against the outside wall and breathes in soft shaky breaths, that make Clint wonder how he’d sounded when he’d been asthmatic. Something like this he’d bet. But back then Barnes was there to make it better.

He just sits there with him instead. Talks in a soft, slow voice about very little at all until Steve’s breathing evens out and he exhausts himself crying. Then he helps him up and chivvies him into bed, making him drink a liter of water along the way. The Olympics are on, the rest of the world still continuing on, pretending not to see the train wreck that is America right now, so Clint puts that on for them, sits up against Steve’s back, let’s himself be a living breathing anchor for the man, if only for the afternoon.

The next morning he gets Steve out of bed, gets him and Sam arranged in the Skype window and waits for Asher to make the connection. Once he’s on he tells them, “I’ve got ten minutes.”

Clint wastes no time throwing Ross under the bus. Hard. Then getting Steve to explain his part of the story, as best as he can. They run over ten minutes, but nobody says anything.

No one’s going to interrupt Captain America as he explains how his best friend was turned back into a killing machine by some psychopath bent on revenge.

When Steve’s finished explaining everything Asher just blinks, says, “Fuck.” and then disconnects the call.

Banning calls Clint a minute later, telling him, “We’re working on it man. Thanks. Seriously.”

Steve wanders back out to the gardens. Sam goes back to sleep. Clint goes to find Scott and they play endless rounds of five card stud with Wanda, who’s still a little shaky and unbalanced, but is better, all around than she was the day before. Scott is attempting, and failing to teach Wanda how to bluff. The fact that her face scrunches up in concentration every time she gets a good hand is sort of a tell, but Clint decides that this isn’t a ditch he’s dyin’ in, so he’ll just let Scott handle that one.

He kills another five hours this way before Banning calls back, tells him,“I need you to come to DC. Explain what we’re looking at. Rogers too.”

He starts to make noises about how he’s wanted, and extradition, and Banning just says, “The state department will give pardons. If they can get Ross put away. Rogers just because he’s Captain America, and Barnes too. But the rest of you, we can get cleared.”

He tells T’Challa he needs a plane.

D.C. is the same as it always is. Humid as hell and chock full of people in suits. They’ve almost got the Potomac cleaned up all the way, but the National Mall’s gonna take a bit more work. The Homeland Agents hustle Clint into an SUV and then into the back entrance of the white house. He spends the ride there checking his texts now that he has service again. Quite a few from his wife, all terrifying.

A couple from Natasha letting him know she's fine, she's in Europe, she's digging up everything possible on Tony Stark's father. He doesn't exactly know why she's so angry, only that she is and when she's that angry it's best to get out of the way.

  

One from Fury

Mike Banning meets him before they go into the oval office and then proceeds to bug him about the last time they were Kandahar together.

They have a little bonding moment before Banning frisks him then makes him take off his suit jacket and pull the knife blade sewn into the sleeve out. He just shrugs at Clint's surprise tells him, “I know you, man.”

Asher is a quiet, serious man and the more Clint runs down the conversation the more he appreciates the man's quiet attention. He reminds him a lot of Steve honestly, and the longer they chat, the happier Clint is that he voted for him.

He finally finishes with everything he knows, and Asher agrees that there are going to have to be a few major changes and that they're going to have to clean up their black sites. Their black teams too.

He signs his pardon, then he offers Clint a job. A very good job. With a lot of money.

He agrees, on a few conditions.

Flying on the black ops budget isn't much different than his last few jobs for SHIELD. He gets to New York easily enough, checks on his tenants, makes some phone calls to Wakanda and then stops and pays a visit to Stark tower.

Tony looks like forty miles of rough road and Clint feels bad for the dude, he does. Anyone can agree that Tony's having a hell of a week.

The other man looks alarmed when Clint walks into his living room, but Clint just tells him, “If I wanted you dead Tony, you'd already be that way.”

Stark snorts at that, then runs a very tired hand through his hair and asks, “Why are you here then?”

“To tell you a couple of things. “ He waits for Tony to nod that he's listening, then tells him, “You're never going to be able to kill Barnes.”

“Why, cuz he's the Winter Soldier? He didn't look so tough the last time I saw him.”

Clint shakes his head, tells him, “Because Rogers won't let you. “

Tony laughs at that, actually laughs. “ What, you're telling me Captain America is going to murder me in cold blood?”

Clint thinks that Tony's very lucky Steve didn't rip him apart with his bare hands, but he doesn't say so. He doesn't need to apparently since Tony starts thinking back to their fight in Siberia.

Clint had watched the footage after Scott had managed to get it off of one of the security cameras Zemo had had ready. He'd honestly thought Steve was going to kill Tony after he shot Bucky's arm off. He's still a little surprised he hadn't.

And whatever Tony has said to him, the way Steve's spine had stiffened before he dropped that shield…Tony Stark is lucky to still be among the living in Clint’s honest opinion.

The shield is still sitting in the corner of Tony's living room, and Tony must see Clint eying it because he shakes his head, tells him, “Rogers isn't getting that back.”

Clint doesn't say anything at all, but Stark continues, tells him, “It’s mine isn't it? My father made it.”

He shakes his head, tells him, “No Tony, it's not. “

Tony opens his mouth to argue, and Clint cuts him off, tells him, “Asher’s going after Ross, Tony. For a lot of things but that little black site prison, you seem so familiar with is definitely one of them. So keep your nose clean, huh? I don't want this guy taking you down too. “

Tony doesn't say anything after that. Clint stands up to leave and then he asks, so quietly that Clint almost doesn't hear him, “Why did you pick Steve? Barnes is a murderer, you know that. He deserves to die. “

Clint shakes his head, tells him,

“ I had a brother, did you know that?”

Tony shakes his head and Clint nods, tells him, “He was four years older than me. His name was Barney. When I was about nine or so he ran away, took me with him. We joined up with a circus and worked for room and board for a few years. Barney was more than happy to just do that, but I wanted to be in the circus, make some money for us.

“That's how I got the name, you know? The amazing Hawkeye? There was another archer there, he trained me, but his methods were - harsh.”

Harsh enough that he still has scars on his back, though it's been more than thirty years.

“He beat me half to death one day when Barney found out about that he broke into the manager's office, stole most of the kitty. Took me up to Iowa. He joined up with the army the day he turned 18. I was about fourteen then, old enough to take care of myself. Barney sent me the money for rent and food every month once he was out of basic. Kept that going until I was about sixteen, which is when he got involved in some sort of black ops shit with the CIA.

“I stopped seeing him hardly at all, though the money got substantially better. He'd write me when he could, tell me once I was through high school he'd stop. He figured he'd have enough for my college education by then. I was so focused on my grades, on getting into college that I almost didn't realize that I hadn't heard from him in a month. The army didn't get around to telling me he was dead until about a week later. I ended up in the Marine Corps, they took me at 17. Then through special ops, and then into the CIA myself. That’s when I found out what had happened to my brother.

“Someone in his own squad had burned him, Tony. The ten rings tortured him to death. I've seen parts of it, and it's- “

He breaks off then, tells Tony. “I know my brother suffered. It's a hard thing to live with, to carry around with you. When I figured out who'd burned him, my third or fourth year with the agency, I ripped him apart. And I don't regret it. Spent a year in an agency prison, a lot like the one you visited, before Fury made me that offer. “

He shakes his head at the look on Tony's face, then tells him, “My brother did bad things, Tony. He had more choice about it then Barnes did. But he was my brother and I loved him. And there are some things you can't forgive. If I had the chance to get him back -I can't tell you where I'd draw the line. It'd be pretty far though, I can tell you that. “

He turns towards the door, pauses long enough to say, “If you kill Barnes, you'd better put Rogers down first. Because I will not stop him. I need you to understand that. I will not pull him off of you. So you need to seriously think about where you're gonna go after if that's your plan. “

He leaves then. He figures he’s said quite enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint's brother is based on part of MCU/Comics canon (They did run away to join the circus.) and partly what I think makes Clint a compelling character in the comics/films.


	4. Chapter 4

The day after they put Bucky on ice Steve manages to pull himself out of bed, though he feels like he's gone ten rounds with Thor when he's in a bad mood. He knocks around the little suite he has in the visitor's room of the palace. T'Challa had told him he was welcome to stay here as long as he needs, and right now Steve is very grateful since he has no idea what he's gonna do next.

He can’t hide from his problems forever, as tempting as it sounds. He’d binge read a lot of books, right when he’d been dethawed and he’d been spending a lot of time in SHIELD infirmary while they made sure that his heart and the rest of him had survived his hibernation without any terrible side effects. One of the nurses had brought him the Narnia series, and he’d been struck by one line in particular, in one of that later books, “Crying is all right - But you have to stop sooner or later.”

If he cries anymore he thinks his lungs’ll fall out, so he’s going to have to try to find something else to do in the meantime. T’Challa’s assured him that he’s welcome in any of the palace areas that are open to the rest of Wakanda, and he wanders in and out of rooms for a little bit, the Dora Milaje in charge of guarding him trailing a discreet distance away. After he eats something for lunch, at his guard’s insistence, he goes to see Sam, to talk about what the hell they’re going to do next.

Sam’s still in the infirmary room Steve saw him in last time, and he’s still high as could be, but he’s happy enough to see Steve, tells him, “Sit down man,” and Steve sits down on the couch beside him. He and Sam make small talk for a little while, Baseball’s just starting up again, and they chat about that. Steve has remained loyal to his Dodgers, though they’d long since departed to sunnier pastures. They talk about the future a little bit, Sam telling Steve that while the charges against him aren’t great, they’re not all that terrible either. His chances of getting a fair trial have certainly increased now that he’s no longer in US government custody, and if that isn’t a sad state of affairs, Steve doesn’t know what is.

Sam also tells him, chokingly, “I”m so sorry about Tony, man. I’m so glad - I’m so glad you’re both ok.” He thinks for a long minute, then amends to, “Mostly ok.”

Steve just nods, tells him not to worry, takes his best friend’s hand and rubs his fingers along the knuckles gently, tells him, “It’s all good now, Sam. It’s all good.”

They watch the rest of the game that way, Sam sitting up to eat the snacks the kitchen sends in, with the nurse admonishing them both to eat, please. He has to get his feet re-wrapped after that, so Steve goes into the hallway and stews for a bit while that happens.

Clint calls them the next morning with updates, telling Steve what Asher had said about the black ops site, that they’d be shutting it down. He tells him he’s trying to get a team together, and Steve is tempted, he is, but he needs to make sure Bucky is okay first. Needs to make sure that he takes care of him. He had counted himself as part of the Barnes family for years - had reaped the many benefits from it before the war.

The war's over now, and the duties of that family are impressed upon him.

Clint says he understands, gets him to take the phone back to Sam, who accepts the offer pretty much immediately, agreeing that he’d finish healing up in Wakanda and then move to D.C again to help Clint out. He’ll get his pardon signed then too, Asher’s already guaranteed it. Cint finalizes everything with Steve to come and collect his and Barnes, then rings off to talk to Wanda.

When Steve asks him why Sam just shrugs and says, “ I guess I'm not as done as I thought I was, man.”

Steve can understand that. Can understand why Sam might have a bit of an ax to grind after what’s happened to him, everything that he’s suffered through. He also thinks that Sam doesn’t want this to happen to anyone else, doesn’t want his government to have any more power.

It’s a righteous cause, the kind a man like Sam would fight for. The kind Steve would have fought for before he’d dropped the shield and declared himself done.

He doesn't know if he's necessarily done either, but he knows in his heart that Bucky is. Bucky needs to get away from this world, from everything that seems so determined to harm him, and Steve can’t begrudge him that, can’t possibly take away one of Bucky’s only chances to live a happy, normal life again.

And if Bucky’s going to have a happy, normal life, then Steve needs to make sure that he’ll have everything ready for him when he’s back to enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote is from C.S Lewis' The Silver Chair.


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Tony does when he gets back from Serbia is call Pepper and breathe hard into the phone for forty-five minutes while she tries to talk him down, speaks softly about everything and nothing and asks him again and again, “Breathe, Tony. Are you breathing?”

He finally manages to choke out words around the half hour mark, about Rhodes and Steve and his whole goddamn world going to hell in a handbasket, and finally just a limp, pleading, “Please come home. Please.”

“Oh, honey. Yes. I’m going to get on a plane in ten minutes, okay? Happy’s getting them to floor it. Just hang in there and we’ll be home in a couple of hours, okay?”

The next thing he does is make sure the kid got home ok. He did, not at all phased by the hell fire that’s raining down on the news and the absolute unraveling of the nation's security. Youth is like that, he supposes. All that angst and never once frightened like they should be. He texts back excitedly when Tony inquires about his well being, sending such a string of phrases that he eventually gives up in exhaustion and tells Friday, “Send him something nice back, please? Whatever seems appropriate from the context.”

He’d usually get Rhodey to help him with that, but Rhodey’s still sedated while they wait to see if the procedure reduced any of the swelling on his spine, so he’s going to have to wait on that.

Ross calls him about trying to track down Romanoff and he can't bring himself to do it, so instead, he just says that he has no idea where she is, and leaves it at that, whether Ross believes him or not.

He’s burned enough bridges lately.

The fact of the matter is - that trashed suit and burned out house or not, the show is going to go on, and Tony’s got to be ready to defend the earth from whatever crap he’s got to deal with, since Steve’s fucked off to Wakanda and left him holding the goddamn bag.

He’d be more upset, but frankly, he doesn’t have the energy. Or the time.

Happy and Pepper descend on him in the early morning hours, and Pepper hustles him off to bed after they get an update on Rhodey, the surgery went well. He sleeps a good ten hours, suspects that Happy slipped him a mickey in the coffee he’d brought him. He’s still tired after he gets up, but he manages to stagger through a couple of hours of emergency board meetings, with Pepper sitting stern and steady in the chair next to him, and Happy hovering over his shoulder like a guardian angel. He doesn’t have much to worry about, between the two of them, and so he doesn't.

The stock rebounds - the stock always rebounds, and he and Rhodes go back to the compound and he tries to get the gang, or at least a gang, back together. He still has Vision, so that's something to be thankful for. He figures he'll just recruit some others, it's a team everyone wants to be on, right?

Wrong.

Strange, when he gets ahold of him, tells him to go fuck himself. He's taken aback a little, hadn't thought Stephen would have a problem with the accords. They argue for a little bit, back and forth until Stephen loses patience with him, snaps, “Everyone I know does magic, Tony. What do you think Ross wants to do with me? “

He hangs up after that. Leaves Tony staring at the phone.

Xavier won’t answer his calls, Logan, when he grows tired of the endless ringing, gives much the same answer as Strange, though Tony didn't know Canadians swore that much. Or that some of those words could be conjugated like that. 

So he's got Pepper, Rhodey, Vision, Parker and Happy. And him.

Fuckin’ A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am including exactly as much of Spiderman: Homecoming as is convenient for me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve speaks to a doctor about what's been done to Bucky. The terminology isn't graphic, but it is there. It's also important to the story.

T’Challa has lived in Wakanda all his life, so the heat is a welcome presence when he opens the door off of his office and wanders back to the panthers' favorite resting spot late in the afternoon.

He's more than a little taken aback to see Steve Rogers sprawled out among them as well. He laughs a little and the man lifts his head, regards him thoughtfully for a long minute before he decides that he’s no threat and lies his head back down. T’Challa’s not sure if he should be offended or not, but either way, he is glad to see the captain of his little pack of refugees seem so comfortable in his home.

Rogers doesn’t respond as he walks closer, finally turning his head when he settles down on the rocks beside him, accepting the weight of one of the panther cubs on his lap. He turns to look at T’Challa and tells him, softly, “I feel like I should be doing something. To help out, or earn my keep.”

T’Challa doesn’t think that he should be doing something, T’Challa thinks that he should be relaxing and healing like the rest of his colleagues are. His doctors report that he spends at least an hour in the lab with Sergeant Barnes, faithfully, reading to him or telling him stories of things he’s been up to with the rest. He exercises, and reads endless amounts of books, and apparently, lies out in the sun with T’Challa’s panthers.

T’Challa shakes his head, tells him, “You are right where you need to be, my friend.” Shaking his head again when Steve tries to protest, telling him, gently, “You insult me as a host, Steven.” Then, at Steve’s stricken look, “How long has it been since someone was kind to you without asking for something?”

Steve has to think about, really, and that alone is sad.

T’Challa tells him, “There will be no keep earning here, hmm? Go back to your nap, Steve.”

He stands up, then pauses, tells him, “Though I feel like I should be telling you to wear sunscreen. Can you not burn?”

Steve shakes his head, “Not that I’ve noticed. I’m a little pink sometimes, but I just take a cold shower, and I’m good.”

He closes his eyes again, tells him, “It’s nice to feel so warm though. It was - it was a long winter.”

That T’Challa does not doubt.

He tells his science team that getting Barnes’ mind back is a priority ranked only slightly below national defense.

They have a few ideas already, and the green light to invest funding is all they really needed. He thinks it might be useful in the coming years, as more of Hydra's victims, come into the spotlight.

But he also just wants to be able to provide something good for the man unconscious in his main lab right now. And the man sitting by his cryotube, looking like he’ll wait for eternity if he needs to. Bucky and his father were both victims, but he is beginning to suspect that Steve's been used too. Exploited for his good nature if nothing else.

T’Challa is more than happy to oblige them both if that’s what’s needed.

But… he has felt the grief that is on Roger’s face right now. He knows how it feels to lose the most important person in his universe - knows what it’s like to try to carry on under the weight of that. So he cannot blame Rogers for anything he's done since Barnes has been rediscovered. Not a gods-damned thing. There is no limit, T'Challa has learned, to the things you will do for love. 

As far as he is concerned - he's more than happy to do anything possible to reunite them.

His science team tells him to give them a couple of months, then check back, and he obliges, doesn’t say anything to Steve just yet. Instead, he suggests activities to keep his guests amused. Scott Lang has gone with Barton to start the process for all of his many pardons, while Wanda is waiting in Wakanda for Sam to feel better before she goes to join them. They make it their task to drag Steve out of the palace for what Sam calls, “Field trips” to local shops, museums, etc. He’s happy that they seem so at home with his people, in his country, but he can tell that Steve’s heart isn’t in it, and so he tries not to press too much.

Wilson seems to be working on getting Steve into some sort of therapy, and indeed, T’Challa’s specialists are more than willing. Steve seems amiable enough to go, but not so much to share, from what T’Challa has heard, but he tries not to make Steve’s therapy his business.

Once Wilson leaves, Steve stops going, and T’Challa doesn’t push.

Instead, he encourages the man to spend more time in the sun and sends away for book recommendations from a friend from university. He’s not much of a reader, himself, always more interested in sports, or music or spending time with his animals. The man is more than happy to oblige and sends along a huge list for Steve to peruse.

His father had been a reader, T’Challa knows, and he has most of these books. Steve is honored to be able to read them, always treats them with care and returns them the same way. He asks Shuri if she minds, but she just shakes her head, tells T’Challa, “Better someone uses them, then they sit in a box and rot. Baba would have liked it this way, much better.”

She’s not wrong. He tells Steve to help himself and leaves it at that.

His science department gets back to him after 9 weeks, not two months, but the news, when it comes, is so good that T’Challa can’t begrudge them the extra seven days. Six weeks and Barnes’ mind will be free of all of Hydra’s programming.

His head surgeon comes and explains all of this to captain Rogers, showing him the scans they'd managed to take while Bucky was unconscious, with his consent of course.

There's something in him, wrapped around his upper shoulder, intertwined with his brachial nerves and so small you can barely see it on the scans.

Steve’s face is white with anger and pain, and he chokes out, “How does it work?”

Madaki sighs rubs a hand on the crown of his head and tells him, “We’re not sure - the only way to know would be to duplicate it, which is completely unnecessary in this setting. What I guess is that the device responds to certain changes in Sergeant Barnes’ body - either hormonal or neurological, that are programmed into him. Then the device triggers a certain voltage and number of electric shocks - with are very painful, and revert him to the Winter Soldier. When we remove the device we can then try to duplicate the experiment, just see what it does with the words, or if we can expose it to hormones and see. But it’s got to come out first.”

“And he won’t respond to those words anymore?”

“He will still respond, but I imagine it will be like most of his programming. Unpleasant for him, yes. Actually capable of causing real changes in his behavior? No. This was HYDRA’s failsafe, captain, and the fact that the arm is so permanent was why they chose to place it there, I imagine. Your Bucky has already done the hard work here, we’ve just got to help him along.”

Steve nods, asks, “You can take it out?” and Madaki tells him, “Yes. But we need time to practice the procedure - run our simulations, look up techniques for delicate operations such as this. I went to school with one of the best surgeons in the world, if I can get in contact with him I will see if he has any advice for me. I’ll need your consent to proceed, Captain. You’re Sergeant Barnes medical proxy.”

Steve nods, signs all the paperwork. He asks, “What about the arm?” and Madaki’s mouth tightens, asks, “Did he express any opinions to you about that? He did not to us, but I would not like for him to wake up and find - “

Steve shakes his head, tells him, “He hates it. That much I can assure you.”

Madaki nods, tells him, “I’d like to remove it then. I don't know what kind of metal they used - or what else could be in there - and our scans show a great deal of heavy metals and foreign supports that need to be taken out of James’ side and upper shoulder.”

Steve has to swallow down his gorge, but he signs everything, and thanks Madaki fervently.

T’Challa makes sure to keep him back, tell him that he and James are more than welcome to remain in Wakanda for as long as they like, but also that Benjamin Asher has been in contact with him, about renegotiating the accords or even reneging on them entirely. T’Challa would like to be the first to make such a move, but he needs someone bigger to go first, and Asher seems willing to take that plunge.

Steve, when he tells him, is taken aback by the news, but joyful also. After so long in uncertainty about his friend’s state and wellness, T’Challa imagines that knowing what to expect seems like a rare gift indeed.

More than that, Steven seems excited to get back to his own home, and his own country. He begins to talk of things he needs to get done before the procedures can be done, and T’Challa can’t do much but just nod, and oblige when Steve asks him for a jet, telling him he has business in DC.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has mentions of human/medical experimentation on mutants. If you don't want to read it, skip from "He's thankful he doesn't have to make the decision" to "The rest of the hall's some sort of..."   
> Anything else is in the past (scars on people's bodies) and not shown.   
>  Also, surprise Charles Xavier.

Clint falls back into his job with an ease that surprises absolutely no one.

Laura loves having him home more often - the hours are way more regular than he was getting with SHIELD. Money’s better too, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t help.

He grabs a couple of guys he knew in the ‘Stan, who are still on the circuit, Lennox finishing up his final tour, so burnt out with the Marine Corps regimented ways that Clint’s offer of, “Good money, good job, wear t-shirts to work,” can’t be beaten. He shows up in the airport in Ramstein with a Nirvana t-shirt and a pair of jeans so stiff they have to be new, tucked into his combat boots, cuz well, old habits die hard.

Muller he actually has to track down through Banning, the man had gotten his discharge from the Navy a year and a half ago after a particularly bad op had left his left knee FUBAR. He’d started taking odd jobs, not ready to be done just yet - no one to go home to. He was more than happy to take Clint up on his offer, do something good - with a paycheck to match.

Scott’s been sticking to him like glue ever since they’d hopped on a plane, but the inclusion of other people actually seems to help the man relax a little bit, and Muller and Lennox take him into their little fold graciously, happy to answer questions, show him how to do things, and tease him mercilessly over his “codename”.

It’s not long before Adam Ant, get’s replaced with Scotty though, and he knows that that little clique is going to work out just fine.

Sam and Wanda get picked up last, once Sam can be on his feet again for more than six hours at a time. The younger man’s still moving a little bit gingerly, but he’s certainly looking a lot better, less hunted, and that makes Clint happy. Wanda’s still shaky too, but the guys take them in so easily, make an effort to make them part of the group, especially Sam, who’s still so easy to spook, even after the few months he spent in Wakanda. The three of them end up buddied up with him and his experienced guys. Lennox takes on Wanda like she’s the little sister he’s never had and Muller and Scott are so chummy that it just makes sense to let that happen. It means that he gets to take Sam under his wing anyway, and that’s good too. Sam’s been in the military, Clint’s seen the file, and the man had been a crack pararescuer, and he knows from Steve that he’s a great shot, and good in a scuffle too. What they’re doing now is a bit different though, and the idea is to get all of them on the same page, quickly. That means there are some drills, though not too many, some marksmanship practice, and a lot of hammering out who’s responsible for what, in charge of who, and delegated to what job.

Asher had given him a month to get his team in shape before they began hitting targets, and their first objective is the raft. Clint would be lying if he said that he didn't take a certain amount of pleasure from cuffing and dragging the bastards so had taken so much pleasure from Sam's pain and Wanda’s fear.

He puts them in charge of clearing the upper levels, leaves Muller with them just in case. There are more empty cells the farther down you go, so he has Lennox and Scott join him with searching the lower levels for more people who’d gotten on Ross’ bad side.

They find people, not Banner, which is honestly what Clint had been afraid of. He knows what Ross did to Bruce the first time. He doesn’t know what he’d do if Ross had the Hulk down here somewhere. The man in him would tell him to let Banner loose once he’s cleared everything else, tell him to have some fun. God knows he's due some blood.

The commander in him, whose responsible for all the lives of the people in the upper levels, especially the ones three floors up, would tell him to put Banner down if he had the means to do it. Might even be kinder, actually.

He’s thankful he doesn’t have to make that decision. 

The last level is particularly, gruesome. They’d been - studying people. Mutants, a couple of them. He lets them out, gets Scott to herd them up to the top, tells Muller over the radio he needs to call Xavier. He can hear Lennox whispering obscenities under his breath, as they start to pass rooms full of people who didn’t make it. Clint doesn’t say anything other than, “I’ll get someone to try to identify them, see if there's anyone to - notify.”

He doubts there’s anyone. People with someone who cared about them - someone who’d do something if they went missing - they aren’t the kind of people Ross was targeting here.

The end of the halls some sort of larger cell, with a lot of room, actually, but there’s definitely been someone here in the last few hours, there's blood on the floor. Through the doors at the back Clint can hear people - screaming? Yelling? There’s definitely something going on.

He lifts his gun, nods to Lennox who’s standing by with the pass that’ll unlock the door. Scott looks more than a little nervous, but he draws his gun too, positioning himself on the other side of Lennox to cover him while he gets his gun up.

They’ve worked on entries, and Clints happy to see it go so well. He goes through the door first, Scott right after him, covering the other side of the room.

They walk into a shit storm. A couple of the scientists are trying to get one of their -subjects? Clint can’t think of a better word, up off of the ground, so that they can use him as a hostage if the pistol one of them is waving around is any indication.

Clint shoots the one with the gun in the back of the head. He feels it’s justified. Lennox clips the other one when he spins, leaving him clutching his arm, and one quick shove from Scott gets the man down on his knees for the zip ties.

The poor bastards curled into the corner of the room, his shock of white hair the only visible part of him, as he hides his face in his knees. Clint’s first thought is more sick relief that it’s not Banner, only to realize that he knows that hair, knows that soft lilting accent pleading in what he’s sure is Sokovian.

Son of a bitch.

He puts his gun in the back of his tactical pants, kneels down to the kid’s level, murmurs, “Didn’t see this coming.”

The joke does exactly what he hopes it will, and the kid jerks his head up, sees Clint, and closes his eyes in relief, whispering something that sounds a lot like “Thank God.”

Clint doesn’t say anything else, but he picks the kid up, lets him loop his legs around his hips, carries him out that way, with Lennox covering his back, and Scott dragging that last doctor (not particularly gently) out with them.

He gets the kid to the jet before he calls Wanda over, tells him, “I’m gonna get your sister. And a medic, okay?”

Sam looks shaken and ill at some of the things he’s seen, at reliving the scene of his fairly vivid torture, but he rises to the occasion admirably, getting Pietro to lie down on the bench, while Wanda clings to his hand and whispers things to him that seem to put him at ease.

He’s not very badly hurt, bruised and more than a little starved. He’s obviously been cut at one point, there are thick silver scars down his legs visible under the shorts that are all he has as clothing. There’s a scar on his chest too, up near where his heart would be, but that’s all Clint can see. He must have tried to fight them, there's blood dripping down one arm and off the side of his face.

He calls Banning. Gets the kid a bed in Bethesda, for a couple of days, some x-rays. Wanda’s going with him, and the mulish look on Lennox’s face says he is too. He okays that, makes sure Xaviers got the rest of his mutants off of the place. He offers to take Pietro as well, but Clint shakes his head, tells him, “His sister’s with him. She’ll make sure he’s looked after.”

He doesn’t doubt that either. Wanda is a formidable woman, and if Clint wakes up tomorrow to find that she and Pietro have disappeared off the face of the planet, he won’t be terribly surprised.

Besides, Nat likes her, and Nat is a little bit more than formidable. With her help? Wanda could have them living in the lap of luxury in a bout a week, in a country where nobody asks too many questions.

Xavier nods, asks, “I know this is absolutely none of my business, but the young man? What was his name?”

Clint’s distracted with head counts, so he doesn’t notice the shocked expression on Xavier’s face the moment he answers, “Pietro Maximoff.”

He thinks about it later, but he just assumes he’s surprised because Pietro was declared dead three years ago, in Sokovia. Xavier thanks, him, makes sure he has everyone he’s claiming. He’d offered to take some of the political prisoners as well, contact the state department on their behalf. It’s more than Clint’s expecting. Probably more than humanity deserves, but the prisoners are grateful at the idea of sleeping in a real bed, and Clint doesn’t stand in the way of something Xavier wants, even if the man’s kindness surprises him.

Though that, Clint supposes, could be a sympathy he’s picked up from Lensherr. Either way, he herds everyone but the most dangerous into his plane tells Clint that he’ll pass any intelligence he can collect along. Clint appreciates it, but he doubts he’ll need it. Muller and Wanda had gotten a lot of data off of the internal systems, as well something that Clint’s sure Steve’ll appreciate.

The entire book Zemo’d been carrying with him, all scanned into a hard drive, and some of the original files from the Soviet project.

He has no idea what Steve will do with them, but they go to him, Clint’s sure enough of that.

He loads a virus into the systems, something particularly nasty that Natasha had gifted him a few Christmas’s ago. He’s sure that the system is quarantined from anything else the CIA has, but it’s worth a shot, sometimes people are stupider than you think.

Asher’s already decided that they’re sinking this puppy, and Scott, for a reason Clint really doesn’t want to explore, has enough experience with explosives to set the charges in the supports, and remotely detonate them once they're far enough away. Muller leans back from the pilot’s seat once they’ve observed the sinking, only air bubbles left now as the structure fills with water, asks, “Where to now boss?”

“DC. We’ve got some planning to do.”


	8. Chapter 8

Steve signs his pardon in the morning, gets his personal effects back from the UN, ignoring the steady glare from Everett Ross as he signs all of Bucky’s things out as well. Asher’s already granted Bucky’s pardon, he’ll just have to sign it when he wakes up. The older man offers him the same job he’d given Clint, but he’s not interested this time around, tells the man thanks but no thanks. He doesn’t tell him that he should probably start holding tryouts for a Stark approved Captain America, figures that he’ll let Asher come to that conclusion himself.

New York is how he remembers it being the last time he was there. Brooklyn is all at once familiar and strange like someone’s taken a picture he remembers having and mirrored it somehow.

The old building he and Bucky used to live in has long since been torn down, but Steve’d hated that place anyway, and he has no problem going to a real estate agent and signing a bunch of paperwork and telling the agent how much money he’d had in the bank the last time he’d checked, and how much he has in the other bank account, the one the government doesn’t actually know about.

George Barnes had been a crafty old bastard - canny, he remembered Bucky calling it. He’d been canny enough to realize that something mighty fishy had gone down for Steve to suddenly be bench pressing tanks in the army, and for his son to have lived through an ordeal that killed every other man Zola had experimented on. He'd probably connected that Bucky had been experimented on with much the same serum, way before Steve himself did.

Bucky must have known even before that, to be honest. He must've known the first night after Steve told him what Erskine had done with his own serum. Steve doesn't quite know why he'd never told him, but he hasn't. Steve doesn't begrudge Bucky his secrets. Can't bring himself to, after everything that's happened.

George had taken Stark at his word that Steve was alive, and some small part of him had believed that Bucky must have survived that fall in the Alps too. He'd put the settlements from the army, and all the pay they'd both sent home away and invested it in trust, along with whatever money he could once times got better and business was good again. When he'd opened his own brand of whiskey in the sixties, he'd willed a quarter of it to his dead son, and a quarter to Steve. The business was still booming, even now, and one of Buck’s sisters had willed her shares to him too.

Bucky and he receive 75% of the profits of one of the best selling liquor companies in the world. And that doesn’t even touch what George Barnes had made off of liquor running in the thirties that he had in the stock market. The canny old man had bought low, and the profits were pretty astronomical.

The trusts he and Bucky possessed were in a private bank in Switzerland growing fat and happy, and Steve thought they had some property in Ireland too. There's an account manager who takes care of all that, whom Tony's assured him is honest. There'd been a safety deposit box too, with mementos, pictures they'd taken. Marriage announcements for Buck’s sisters. George’s Bible and Bucky’s mother’s menorah. George’s wedding ring. The Barnes had saved the few mementos Steve had had from his mother as well as a few of his sketchbooks. This had been there along with a bundle of letters, one for Steve and one for Bucky.

He’d opened all of his. Bucky’s are safely tucked away at Clint’s, along with their mementos and more than a few odds and ends Steve’s been collecting to keep in the house. He's not sure how he's going to transport all of this to Brooklyn, but that's a problem for another time.

Steve pays cash for the brownstone in Brooklyn that he likes the most. It's a three story house, and he immediately turns the attic into a studio - buying a truly obscene amount of art supplies. He drags a table and a couple of chairs up there with Pietro and Sam's help and a huge love seat as well, remembering how much Buck used to like to read while Steve painted.

The bedrooms he just furnishes simply, thick beds and warm coverlets. Dresser, nightstand, desk. Buck’s got a wall full of bookshelves because he's perfectly aware that as soon as Bucky's well enough to read he's going to be spending a lot of time at the bookstore right down the block. He doesn't mind. He's looking forward to corrupting Bucky with Starbucks. Beyond that, he figures Bucky might want the ability to personalize his space for the first time in god knows how long.

The kitchen he takes more care with. He buys new plates, new pots, new pans. He buys a bunch of cookbooks too, goes and finds a local market that doesn't send him into panic attacks, finds out he can get delivery from the huge scary market. This means that he doesn’t have to sacrifice his ramen noodles or his generic peanut butter, and the hungry kid inside of him that made it through the Great Depression is glad.

He spends a fortune on groceries, sets up a delivery schedule so that he and Bucky will always have food in the house. Clint drives up the stuff they’ve liberated from his barn, and Steve puts everything Bucky’s father left him in the top drawer of the bureau and leaves the rest of it alone. He wants Bucky to have something private to call his own, after everything he’s been through in the last 7 decades. Bucky’s letters from his father are none of his business.

The living room and the den he actually ends up getting help with Laura from, face timing her the way they look now, and then following her advice to the letter. He and Bucky end up with deep set couches, a huge coffee table, and a entertainment center with a tv in the middle of the living room. The bookshelves on the sides remain empty until Natasha starts sending him things in the mail, whole stacks of DVDs, in all sorts of genres. The note that comes with the first pack just says, This is how Clint got me into the modern age. He’s responsible for anything you don’t like. Start with the Disney DVDs, huh?

There’s also the sign-up directions for Netflix, and never let it be said that Steve Rogers can’t listen to advice.

The den ends up all cherry wood, bookshelves and desks and a couple of big leather wingback chairs in the corner. He has no idea what he’s going to do in there, but it’ll look fantastic.

After he’s done all that he still has three weeks left to kill before he can see Bucky again. He could go back to Wakanda, he knows T’Challa wouldn’t mind, but he doesn’t want to impose on the man any more than he obviously has, doesn’t want to make himself anymore useless than he already is.

That’s something he’d missed about combat, honestly, the feeling of use - of knowing all the time, at any given time, what he should be doing and where.

The internet wastes some time, and so does Netflix. He ends up binge watching the entire series of Stranger Things, feels a little bit bad about the fact that he ignored his phone and his emails for the two days that it took to do it.

 

Eventually, he gets a list together about things he and Bucky will need, all the little things about keeping a household that he’s honestly never been responsible for.

He gets a doctor’s office set up as their general practitioner, gets a bunch of psych recommendation from one of Sam’s buddies from the VA. He gets everything set up for when Buck and he come back from Wakanda in the fall, and he gets someone to come and check on everything and make sure the house is ready before they come back.

He gets all the utilities set up on account, makes sure that they’ve got their insurance paid up, their HOA fees and trash fees all collected. Everyone seems to want an email address these days, and he sets up a main one and a spare, to make sure that he can keep everything straight. Sam has to instruct him in the art of which email to use the first couple of times, but he catches on fast enough.

He roams some of his own haunts too. Coney Island, and the Brooklyn bridge. He takes the tunnel to Central park a couple of days, wanders around the zoo. He’s making a list of activities for him and Bucky to do once Buck starts to feel better, mapping out bookstores and museums that they can while a few hours away in every day. He gets Bucky a Starbucks gift card, turns out automatic reload so it can’t ever run out. Signs him up for the membership club at the bookstore and gets him all set up at their bank and at the library, the pharmacy. It makes him realize all of the things Bucky must have taken care of for him, back in the thirties, and he is overcome again with how much he owes him. He can’t imagine having to have dealt with any of this while he was so sick.

Madaki’s sent him a ton of literature about the condition Bucky will be in, the effects of long term malnutrition and sleep deprivation. Bucky will be more prone to throat and lung infections, the cryo the Soviets had put him through had damaged his mucous membranes permanently. He will probably always have some level of pain, either from the mess of his shoulder or the many many stress fractures and old injuries he's has accumulated. Steve doesn’t care. He’s more than able, more than capable of looking after Buck the way Buck used to look after him, and the idea - the very idea of having his friend back with him, in New York, means that Steve is willing to accept any and all limitations.

He finishes the paint in the downstairs bathroom (a deep soothing blue) the weekend before T’Challa calls him, tells him they’re as ready as they’re ever going to be, to go ahead and hop on the jet that’ll be waiting for him on the tarmac of JFK.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has his surgery in this chapter. Nothing bad, but they do take his arm off.

Bucky won’t remember it, he’s so drugged up with sedatives and anxiolytics, but Steve’s there when he first comes out of cryo. He’s there to hold his best guy’s hand and tell him that everything’s gonna be ok. Bucky seems calmer once Steve is around, happy enough to let the doctors wrap him in blankets and keep him warm and quiet until his vitals are stable enough to have him go back to the room where Steve’s been sleeping, and get tucked into bed there.

Madaki comes to see them once Bucky’s been awake for a few hours, propped up in bed and chatting with Steve. He introduces himself, makes a little bit of small talk, until Bucky interrupts him as courteously as he knows how, asks, “I understand you have a way to get these triggers out of me?” and that’s all the cue Madaki needs to get out his tablet and his stylus and start explaining things to Bucky in as much detail as he can handle. Bucky’s not a squeamish guy by any means, but he does pale a little bit when Madaki starts talking about nerves, calming a little bit when the older man tells him, “It’s all coming out Sargeant Barnes. I promise you that. And besides, this is actually good news for your mental sovereignty. The only behavior changes we've observed are being caused by this device.”

That does put Bucky at a great deal of ease, and he consents to the surgery - as well as Madaki and his team removing his prosthetic, and the supports for it. He’d known about the metal bolted into his side apparently, and he’s very enthused by the fact that while Madaki can only remove the existing metal, he knows a surgeon in New York who can easily replace the structure with something safer and less invasive if Bucky ever desires another prosthetic. He promises he’ll give that recommendation before they both leave and that his friend's already said he's more than happy to see Bucky."

Once all of the forms are signed, Madaki asks, “Do you want a few days to rest, Bucky? No one will blame you if you’d like to recover a little bit- “

But Bucky shakes his head, tells him, “As long as that thing is in me, nobodies safe. Sooner the better.”

Madaki seems to have expected this, so he gets them a slot for the next morning easily, then leaves them both to rest.

Steve doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep at all, but once Bucky lays down, reaches out eager hands for him, tells him, “Come lay with me Pal.” he can’t resist. He puts his arms around Buck gingerly, holds on as tight as he dares, and falls into a shallow sleep.

The nurses wake him a few minutes after four, get him to wake Bucky so they can place an IV and get him prepped. Once they put the heart monitor on Bucky’s nerves become apparent to everyone, and one particularly angelic nurse gets him to agree to something to take the edge off, as long as Steve can stay until they get to the operating room.

Bucky’s relief once the drugs kick in is palpable, and Steve can’t help but be relieved as the tension leaves his body, and his eyes close again, letting him sleep through the rest of the wait.

Steve spends most of the time running a soft hand through Buck’s hair and dotting gentle kisses onto his temple, whispering about how everything is going to be just fine from here on out.

Bucky is still loopy from the drugs, kept calm in a way he has never been in real life, but he spares Steve a couple of dopey smiles and slurred assurances before they wheel him away to the operating suite, and guide Steve back to the waiting room.

The surgery takes way too long in Steve’s opinion. Sam and the rest of the gang stop by as a break from their jet-setting, black site busting, commando team lives. Pietro does look about a thousand times better, sitting in the corner and playing go fish with his sister and one of Clint’s buddies. It does Steve good to see him, alive and well and laughing again.

Sam’s the only one who’s really spent any time with Bucky other than Steve, but it’s clear that the rest of the team came to be supportive of the both of them. Mostly they sit in the chairs in the waiting room and watch Steve pace back and forth and occasionally tossing out comforting platitudes that he waves off, annoyed. He doesn’t quite wear a hole in the floor, but even his enhanced muscles are beginning to complain a little when the nurse’s aide walks out, asking for Captain Rogers.

The surgeon, Dr. Madaki, (Steve had liked him before, but he adores him after yesterday, remembers how kind he was, how he’d gone over the procedure as many times and Bucky needed, patiently, explaining things, explaining Plan B, Plan C, and so on.) comes out to talk to him. The first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “The device on his spinal cord is deactivated, and we’ve removed it - no damage to the cord. You can obviously tell his body was trying to reject it, which for our purposes was wonderful.”

Steve flops down into a chair in pure relief, puts his head in his hands while Sam rubs his back and asks, “The arm’s off?”

Madaki nods, tells him, “The arm’s off, and so is the cap they had on what was left of the bone - more than I thought there would be, which is actually quite good. We ended up removing quite a bit of metal from his shoulder and his ribs also. He had quite the support structure built into his skeleton, and we ended up pulling most of that out - it was pretty far gone. I have no idea what they used, but it was obviously not surgical grade - no seal, which explains why he’s felt so bad the last few days. The stress of exiting cryo would have pushed more toxins into his system. There’s some heavy metal poisoning, so I’ve got him on chelation as well, just for a couple of days until his body gets through most of it. He should sleep through most of that, to be honest, and when he does wake he’ll start feeling a lot better. “

Madaki sees the stricken look on Steve’s face, tells him, “It’s good that we know this, Steven - as hard as it is to hear. With Bucky’s healing factor the chelation will be twice as effective, and it’s going to be night and day how much better he’ll feel. Trust me, it’s incredible how much metals in your bloodstream can affect you.”

“But it’s all out now - right?” He can’t stand the thought of Bucky having to do this again, if they’ve missed something, or if more surfaces.

Madaki nods, tells him, “It’s all out. We ran an ultrasound in the OR, and Bucky signed a disclosure to give him a CAT Scan while he was under anesthetic, which I only did once I was positive. I have the scans, I’ll be showing them to Bucky once he’s able to process them, but you can see them now - he gave that permission.”

Steve sighs with relief, tells him, “That would be great,” and Madaki nods, leads him back to the surgical suite, and shows him the before and the afters.

It’s obvious where the metal was, once Madaki shows him what it looks like, and the man waits patiently while he scours the after image for any hint of a shadow, smiling when he finally nods and pulls away. He tells him, “I’m sorry - “ and Madaki shakes his head, tells him, “I was a monster when my daughter had to get her appendix out - thought my colleagues were going to tie me up in a closet. It’s love that causes this much worry, and I’m glad to be able to give you good news. If you’re ready though, you could go see Bucky for yourself.”

He nods, gets to go back and see his guy. They don’t have Bucky in a regular recovery room, instead, it’s some guest suite they revamped for the occasion. It’s all done in blues and greens, with a big window looking right off into the jungle, and a whole other visiting area for Steve to crash in.

Bucky’s lying on the bed, propped up with pillows. There’s no monitors or anything in sight, other than the IVs they’ve got in Bucky’s arm.

His left side is a mess of bandages, and they’ve left the sheets down so they can monitor for bleeding, right now the field of white against Buck’s stomach is still unchanged. They’d scrubbed him up with betadine right before the surgery, and the streaks of orange and the thick medicinal smell makes Steve’s nose wrinkle. He goes into the bathroom and finds the soap, and a stack of soft rags, asks Madaki if it’s ok if he gets Bucky cleaned up. The older man nods, tells him he’ll show him how to change the bandages too, so that if Bucky prefers it, Steve can do it.

He tells Steve, “I want him to stay in the medical wing, in bed, for a week, to make sure there’s no infection, run a couple of ultrasounds, make sure everything’s all right. He’s doing fabulously, really, but it can’t hurt to be too careful, and I’d hate if he ended up in more pain because we weren’t strict enough.”

Steve nods, lets Madaki show him the incision along Bucky’s side and then up his neck and shoulder.

It doesn’t look bad. Nowhere near as bad as Steve thought it would. The skin is a little angry, and there’s a little bit of blood, which is fine, he learns. He can see stitches, but they’re dissolvable, so Bucky won’t even have to have them taken out. He wipes all of the Betadine he can reach off, without disturbing Bucky’s baby scabs, and then lets Madaki help him rewrap everything. Bucky’s already wearing soft pants and socks to keep his feet warm, and Steve gets to put one of his soft hoodies over Bucky’s arms and shoulders to keep him warm. After that, they let the rest of the guys in, and they sit with him in turns, some crashing on the couch and others sitting with him. Clint is the one who sits still the longest, reading his novel and going to get Steve water and snacks when it becomes obvious that he doesn’t want to let Bucky’s hand go.

He falls asleep that way, his head by Bucky’s hip, waiting for him to wake up.


	10. Chapter 10

He knows he’s not with HYDRA because there’s no pain.

There’s a heaviness in his side, and up to his neck that means bandages, but the sick smell of dead flesh or infection is absent. Instead, it smells like…honey? With some tang of soap pulled in too.

He’s lying on something soft, and he can feel pillows under his neck and shoulders, a little nest of it when he turns his head obviously meant to keep him from rolling over on his left side.

Still, no pain, though a sort of tightness as he turns to the right. He hears people murmuring softly on his right side, and as soon as he opens his eyes, Steve’s there, all soft voice and warm hand on his cheek, whispering, “You with me Buck?”

He manages a dry smile, though his lips feel like cracking, as he both recognizes his favorite face in the world, and realizes exactly where he is.

Wakanda. He can hear the waterfalls just barely, outside the window.

Sam’s standing at the end of the bed, and he squeezes Bucky’s foot gently, asks, “How you feelin’ man?”

“Thirsty,” and Sam laughs, easily, says, 

“That’s good. Let me go find someone, get you so water, okay?”

He nods, lets Steve recapture his attention with that same warm hand, tells him, “The doctor’s going to come in, Bucky. The same man you met before, Madaki. Do you remember that?”

“He’s nice.”

Steve smiles again, “Yes. He wants to look at your side, and see how it’s doing, ok? Then we’ll all let you get back to sleep.”

He just hums noncommittally. Steve’s there, he’ll make sure the doctors doing right by him. Mostly he’s thirsty, and he wants Sam to come back with the water.

Sam comes back with Madaki, who’s carrying a pitcher of water, and a cup. He sees Bucky’s eyes go straight to it, and he tells him, “Let’s get you some water first, Bucky, then we’ll talk about the operation, all right?”

He’s more than willing to go along with that plan, especially since that plan seems to involve Steve getting in bed with him and letting him lean back against his chest. Sam sits down on the edge of the bed and pours him a glass of water, helps him hold it steady enough to bring to his mouth, then lets him drink as much as he wants.

Madaki meanwhile is pulling up his files on his tablet, and then gently reaching for Bucky’s neck to take his pulse and ask, “How are you feeling Bucky? Are you in pain?”

He goes to shake his head at that, but Steve stops him, gently, tells him, “Not right now Buck. You’ve got stitches in there.”

He tells Madaki, “Tired.”

The other man nods, moves gently around the bed to look at his neck, asks, “Can I pull this off? I’d like to see if there’s any infection.”

“There’s not.” it’s Steve who answers him, looks a little bashful at the man’s confusion, tells him, “I’d be able to smell it if there was. As weird as that sounds.”

Madaki doesn’t say anything until he peels back the dressings, then laughs and tells him, “You’re right.” He cleans up the used bandages, and then rewraps Bucky’s arm and his neck, tells him, “If it feels bad in any way, or smells bad,” with a nod to Steve, “I need you to let me know immediately, so that I can get antibiotics in you, all right?”

Bucky just nods, then winces when it pulls his stitches. 

Madaki tells him, “I’m going to give you some more painkillers, all right?” and he says, 

“Yes please,” but reaches for the water before that. Sam’s more than happy to hold it for him until he gestures that he’s finished, and then helps him lie back down. Steve apparently has no intention of leaving the bed, because he lies down with him, kisses his temple gently, murmurs, “Go to sleep Buck. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

For the first week, sleep is all that Bucky does.

Steve is always there, and the room they have him in is kept cool with a fan running, for his still adjusting body to stay comfortable. He can’t seem to stop lapsing in and out of exhaustion, and he eventually just gives up, letting himself drift. Steve’s always around, and Bucky usually ends up sprawled over his lap while Steve watches TV or writes in a journal, or sketches some of the plants outside the window.

When he’s feeling a little bit better, not quite so shaky, and off of all the IV drips they’d had him on at the start, Steve takes him out to the gardens, one arm around his waist gently, and coaxes him into lying down beside him on one of the picnic blankets he’s laid out, and runs a hand through Bucky’s hair and reads out loud to him from whatever book he’s on now. Bucky’s mind is still a little too scattered to truly focus, but Steve’s voice is calming and low while he lies in the warm sunshine with his eyes closed and relearns how to be. 

He’d still been half automaton, in Budapest, simply going through the days because he should, eating, sleeping, drinking because he remembered doing it before. Writing things down in a notebook because someone had said it was good for you. There was no spirit in it, no life, and he’d been simply passing through the days until Steve had clomped back into his life, messy and clumsy and reckless as usual.

God how he’d missed him.

The life had started to flow back into him the minute Steve had called him Buck again, and even unto the fight in Budapest, as painful and terrifying as that had been, there had been so much relief in being able to feel something again, even though they weren’t necessarily good things.

Now, his life seems full of good things.

Of Steve's gentle hands on his sides as he helps him to bed, kisses his forehead, covers him with his body every night as they sleep.

Of Sam’s soft drawl as he cajoles him into eating more, “You’re gettin’ way too skinny, Buck.”

Of T’Challa’s low, soft baritone when he inquires after Bucky’s health every evening. T’Challa’s sisters seem to have adopted Steve, and they pull Bucky into their fold as well, fussing over the bandages wrapped tightly around his ribs and shoulders, of how easily they can see his bones in his wrists.

Of how welcoming everyone is - how kind. Someone pries some of his favorite foods out of Steve because one of the cooks presents him with a loaf of soda bread a few days later, butter melting on top of the slices, and he almost inhales all of it before he thinks to offer Steve a slice.

His Ma’s the only one who’s made it better, and he tells the cook this himself, asks to please be let to help with the next batch. The man is more than happy to oblige him, teaching him how to add the baking soda, the flour, the yeast, the sugar.

The smell takes him back to simpler days. Times had been tough for everyone, but his Da had been a rum runner for the mob through most of the Depression, and his parents had always been able to put bread on their table, and Steve’s too. Soda bread might be “simple” fair, but it’s Bucky’s favorite, and he can never turn a slice down.

When Sam finds out about Bucky’s family’s occupation, he’s overcome with delight, asking a million questions that Bucky tries his best to answer. He starts bringing by mobster movies, books, and Bucky’s more than happy to critique all of them for him, curled up on the couch with Steve’s arms around him, Sam leaning against the bigger man’s other side, laughing every time Bucky scrunches his face at the patent ridiculousness in the films.

When T’Challa and Sam find out that Bucky used to run rum too - that Steve used to help, he and Steve end up in the front seat of a range rover on the palaces open track (why T’Challa has a track, he doesn’t know.) T’Challa, Shuri, and Sam are crammed into the back, and T’Challa’s other sisters are both awaiting their turns, as well as a few of the younger men in the palace, who view cars with the same sort of American fondness that their king does.

Cars, as it turns out, haven't changed much over seventy years, though they’re all so boxy now, not like his pop’s Coronet. Still, they’re the same general idea, and after a few minutes, he’s ready to try some of his more “inventive” maneuvers. His friends laugh with delight when Bucky runs them through the track at a breakneck speed, and Steve’s actually better at it - not out of practice. Sam looks plaintive for a minute, before telling Steve, “Tony would love this.”

“Yeah.” Steve takes a deep breath, shakes his head at Bucky’s questioning look, tells Sam, “Maybe one day.”

There’s dancing in Wakanda too. Not the swing he’s used to, or even the grinding the kids are doing now. Deep complicated things that he and Steve stumble their way through a few times until super soldier agility takes over for them and they begin to learn the steps in time with the music, both of them going as fast as they can before they trip, laughing again.

Steve’s the one who shows him how easy it is to find music again, presenting Bucky with a new phone, that seems to have an infinite amount of storage, and showing him how to find the music apps he has loaded for him.There’s swing, and classical, and lyrical things that make him understand why the kids are grinding now, easy to swing hips and bodies too. He and Steve do that too, but in the privacy of their own rooms, laughing as they mostly end up trading easy kisses, arms slung around each other’s necks.

It’s always gentle with Steve, always quiet and easy and light, like Stevie knows he can’t stand anything else right now, nothing like before.

And before is still there, still lingering in the corner of his mind like a particularly nasty minefield, but he’s not ready yet, to be sad again, not ready to think about how much work he needs to truly be well again.

His body heals at a rate disproportionate to his mind, and that’s sometimes a help, and sometimes a hindrance. His ribs are almost completely healed within a fortnight, while his shoulder still has a few places to regenerate. The doctors are more than happy with his progress, physically and neurologically. He can do puzzles and touch his nose with the best of them now, and the only lingering side effects of the arm seem to be some pain on rainy days, and a rather annoying tendency to list to the left when tired. He doesn’t think, all in all, that he has much to complain about. Especially considering where he’d be if HYDRA had managed their Triskelion plans.

That fight on the carrier is one of the few things he can’t remember clearly from the past seventy years. Steve’s a little fuzzy on the details as well, but the therapist who checks in with him every few days assures him that that’s normal. The older man tells him that the mind is like a sieve sometimes, letting go of things that might be harmful to keep.

Bucky’s not sure if ignorance is doing him much good either, but there’s nothing to be done about it, and anyway, he is so tired of being miserable.

The first cracks in his mental state start to show when he and Steve start to plan their return to the states. For whatever reason, maybe not surprising considering what had happened the last time he’d gotten on an airplane, the idea of travel that way stresses him out. T’Challa offers to get them on a ship, but that sounds worse to him, and to Steve also he suspects. Being that far out on the ocean, away from all help - the very idea is hell.

Steve finally texts Clint for help, and the older man agrees to chauffeur them immediately, telling them both that it’s no problem, he’s got to come get Sam anyway - though he leaves the rest of the crew in New York. Bucky opts for twilight sedation, with Sam nobly sitting next to him and holding his hand the few parts he’s lucid - while Steve decides to white knuckle it in the cockpit beside Barton.

He doesn’t remember getting on what Clint’s calling, “Barton’s taxi service”, nor does he particularly remember getting out. He has vague memories of Steve carrying him out, of being placed in the backseat of a car, and then stairs up. Sam asking, “Do you need help man?” and Steve’s voice rumbling in his chest, saying, “Without the arm, he barely weighs anything at all. Could you - Yeah, thanks.”

He’s being laid down on a soft bed, Steve’s pulling the blankets over his shoulders. He goes to pull away, and Bucky whines a little, reaching out and grasping onto his shirt, mumbling, “Don’t leave me.”

Steve chuckles low in his throat, then Bucky feels the weight on the bed shift as he sits down, on the side of the bed, tells him, “Let me take your shoes off, hmm?”

Bucky doesn’t fight him on it, but he smiles when Steve lies down next to him and pulls him into his arms gently.

He falls asleep to a warm thumb rubbing over his temple, and soft lips on his forehead. 


	11. Chapter 11

When he wakes, the room is hot and stuffy and his mouth is dried out. He sits up, careful not to jostle Steve too much, and wanders down to the kitchen to get some water.

He hadn’t had a chance to look around the house earlier, so he does that now, running his fingers over the books in the shelves, admiring the entertainment center Steve’s got them. The kitchen is a work of art, but he ends up going back upstairs to what he supposes is his room, careful not to disturb Steve still on the bed. There isn’t much in the room yet, but opening the bureau drawers he’s grateful at least that Steve bought him some clothes.

The top drawers a little harder to pull out than the others, and when he sees what’s in it that he realizes why.

It’s a bundle of things, a box of what looks like old mementos, that he pulls out and flips through, gently, until he sees something that makes his fingers still.

It’s a letter, from his father, and it’s dated ‘73, right before he died. He runs his fingers over the thick envelope, seeing his father's looping handwriting on the front, to James.

His father was the only one who'd ever called him that and it startles at him a little to see it written out again. He's remembering the letters his father had written him on the front, the little notes he'd tucked into Bucky's lunch pail before school, little cartoons etched in the rough carpenter's pencil he'd always had tucked behind one ear. History has forgotten, (more likely they'd never known) that it had been Jack Barnes that had taught Steve to draw that first time, laid up in bed and looking for something to amuse himself with. And it'd been his pop’s letters he'd finally started to come back to himself with on the front, the easy anecdotes and loving concerns more a balm to his soul than any other thing he'd tried.

This last letter - God knew his soul could use the help.

He stops thinking. Instead takes the knife Steve has on the dresser and slits the top open, drawing out a neat sheaf of paper, all filled with neat draughtsman handwriting.

_My dear son,_

_If you are reading this then I was right, and let me assure you I'll be gloating to your mother about that._

_If you are reading this, James, let me first say how much I love you. You and your sisters have been the best parts of my life, and for a man to have a son like you- I know how lucky I was, son._

_I wailed like my heart was broken when they came to tell me about what happened to you, my boy. In a way, I don't think it ever stopped being broken. I don't imagine Stevie’s heart did either and I can't say I was surprised about what he did. The world is darker without you in it these days._

_I look around the world today and think how delighted you would be with it. With all the changes we've seen in the last few years. All the progress. All the things you told me would happen one day if I had enough faith in people._

_That Stark fella came by a few days after they did the service for Stevie. I made em do it proper too, with mass and everything. We buried you boys together, figured it wouldn't be appropriate to separate the two of you. You go together, the two of you. Always have._

_He told me that he believed Steve wasn't dead, that the enhancements Erskine did to his body would have kept him alive. I didn’t say much about that, not sure whether I should be encouraging the man or calling for his wife to come collect him. I did tell him that if anyone has the pure bloody cussedness to survive a dip in the Arctic, it would be Steven Rogers._

_It makes me wonder what happened to you, James. Gabriel Jones was kind enough to visit me after you boys fell. He told me about the train, about the Alps, about what happened. That part of the world is controlled by Russia now, and I shudder to think of what they would have done with you._

_I find myself in a quandary when I go to pray now James. On one hand, if you are alive, that is the greatest gift God could give me. No parent wishes to bury their child._

_On the other, you have suffered, James, far more than your own share, and if you are still living - in that part of the world - then you are still suffering, and what kind of father would I be if I prayed for that?_

_You see the problem._

_James, my heart cannot accept the idea of you dead, reasonable and likely though it may be. Your mother thought I was crazy for my refusal to completely accept your death. She never understood it completely._

_Your mother is a practical soul, and I’m thankful for it. She keeps me on the ground and settled with the rest of the world. Keeps me from going off into flights of fancy for no particular reason. You inherited that from her, and it’s what keeps Steve on the ground too. God knows where either he or I would be without you two._

_If you are still alive, James, I want you to know that I love you. No matter what you’ve done at this point - to survive; either by your own will or under duress. You are a good man, and I love you, and I always will. There’s nothing, my son, that you could have done to make me any less proud of you, or any less happy that you were my son._

_I have made provision for you - as best as I am able, with the company, with the shares, to make sure that whatever may have befallen you, and wherever else you may have ended up, you can have a happy and healthy life now. That’s a father’s job, and I did my best at it when you were young - am doing my best at it now too._

_I want you to be able to pursue whatever passion you find yourself interested in now my lad, though I must confess that it would do my old heart good if you went back to school again. You were always so smart, boy and most of it was wasted loading crates, or driving moonshine for me and the lads._

_You can do whatever you want now Bucky, there’s enough money there to keep a prince, and I’m assured that it’ll only grow from here on out. Keep you and Steve settled well into your old age - however long that might be._

_I don’t want you mixed up in any more wars my son. You’ve seen quite enough of death, and he’s seen quite enough of you. Let you find something better to occupy your time with please._

_All my love,_

_Your father._

Steve wakes up to the sound of him sobbing, deep wracking things that come from somewhere inside his chest, and are likely to make him sick if he continues. He’s barely conscious of Steve coming to wrap his arms around him, rocking him back and forth, back and forth as he croons to him softly. Steve tells him, gently, once he has the ability to breathe again, that his father had left Steve letters too, as well as pictures, mementos. He flips through the album with him, gently, tells Bucky what Jack had said to him in his own letters.

Mostly, take care of my son. Jack had always been an observant man, and he must have known that there was more there than either Steve or Bucky had let on to when they’d been younger. By the time they’d been back from the war on leave, it had been harder to hide, the two of them so used to living in close quarters, with the rest of the commandos not caring a whit, that they couldn’t seem to replace the facade they’d maintained for so long. Jack hadn’t seemed to mind, though he had taken Steve aside, one morning when Bucky’d walked with his mom down to the general store. Jack had told him that he expected him to treat Bucky right when they got back from the war, set his son up in a nice house, with plenty to keep him happy and healthy, and a baseball team of kids if he wanted them.

 

Once Bucky’s calmed a little bit, they make breakfast. And then Steve talks to him about the appointment he’d set up for them with the guy Madaki recommended. The doctor is gentle, and patient, lets Steve back with him, let’s Bucky talk slowly about all of his concerns. He takes some blood to check the heavy metal issue, gets Bucky to rotate his stump of a shoulder to see the movement, makes sure everything’s as it should be. When Bucky talks about ongoing health issues, he takes copious notes, recommends a neurology consult and a nutritionist, both of whom owe him a favor and can see them that day. He tells him that he wants him to track his eating, and his pain - gives him what looks like little worksheets for both, restarts his prescription for painkillers, and asks about sleep. He doesn’t push when Bucky says no to sleeping pills, just tells him that his brain needs sleep to heal, so if it becomes a problem, he might have to suck it up and take some. He also gives him a psych consult, though when Bucky tells him he’s looking, he drops it.

Eventually, he pulls off his prescriptions from the pad, tells him, “Right. Plenty of rest, see the nutritionist, please. I want the neurology consult just to check on a few things - he might want an MRI, but that doesn’t have to be done today. You look pretty healthy for someone who’s been in and out of cryostasis, but we’ll try to make some improvements, I think. Can I see you again in a month? Just to check in, but if you need anything, call my office or get an appointment anytime, all right?”

Bucky takes that and runs.

He finds a shrink the next week, after calling a few people and talking over the phone.

Alex Cheng is a quiet, middle aged man, who likes to wear khakis and band t-shirts to work. He’s patient with Bucky’s silences, his screaming fits, his days when speaking seems to take too much effort, and all Bucky can do is stare at him blankly, and maybe scribble things down on a legal pad. He doesn’t seem fussed by Steve’s constant worrying either, telling them both that they were in the middle of the adjustment period from hell, and to take it easy on themselves.

He’s very grateful for Adam’s poker face too, the fact that he can remain stone faced - if a little green while Bucky recounts some of his worst memories is a blessing. He doesn’t tell Bucky how he should feel, just helps him process the memory and move on with his life.

And that’s all Bucky really wants to do.

It's all Steve wants to do too, and he comes with Bucky faithfully every week, waits in the reception area with him, then goes across the hall to his own appointments once Bucky is settled in his. He never talks about his sessions, never tells Bucky anything at all, but he goes, and it seems to help. 

He and Steve spend the end of the summer mostly outside, with Steve taking him back out to Coney Island the first day he feels up to it. It’s not quite how Bucky remembers it - but then again nothing really is. The hot dog stand they used to go to as kids is somehow still there - and it still tastes good, though this time they eat the hot dogs after the roller coaster, not before. Bucky’s stomach is still a little bit sensitive from cryo, and he’s always been a wimp about throwing up.

Steve wins him an absolutely ridiculous teddy bear from the ring toss booth - he’s always been a shark on that one. It has a Captain America shield and hat. Bucky manages to stop laughing long enough to text Sam a picture - and apparently, that’s all it takes for it to make the rounds. 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Bucky’s forgotten a lot about New York - though it’s all so different now that there’s not much Steve remembers either. Coney Island is probably a little bit too much fun for two full grown men, but they do have a blast. Bucky puts the teddy bear Steve wins him on his side of the bed, and if it helps even a little bit, then Steve’s ready to win him fifteen more.

The bookstore down the block he saves for when Bucky is having a particularly bad day and the slow, ambling walk they take down there as a way to distract Buck from the pain in his side and shoulder is actually one of Steve’s sweetest memories. It’s one of those perfectly warm days, they can both get away with jeans jackets, Bucky in a new sheepskin one that had arrived by mail last week - courtesy of Laura Barton. He’s leaning into Steve a little, but it’s more for securities sake than anything else, feeling safer with his shoulder right up against Steve’s. The sun’s shining through his hair, just tucked behind his ears, now that it’s healthy enough, and with some product in it to keep it nice and less windblown.

Bucky’s eyes light up when he sees the bookstore, all brick with heavy glass doors and plenty of windows. Steve makes them stop for coffee first, both so Buck can take it easy for a few minutes and drink something hot, and so he can chart out his plan of attack on one of the little maps the bookstore gives out to help people keep the first and second floors separate. Bucky’s jotting down things he’s interested in with happy abandon, Steve’s finally got it through is head that they have money - more than enough money - for Bucky to buy the damn bookstore if he wanted to, and his best guy is ready to stock up on reading material for what seems like the next decade.

The thing is though, that Bucky reads like a madman, and Steve’s fully expecting to have to make another trip around the new year.

He doesn’t mind And he doesn’t mind holding Buck’s huge bag of books or standing patiently with the book cracked in one hand so Bucky can read the inside covers or the prefaces.

They’d already bought some of those little book weights to hold books down once Bucky actually buys them, but it’s no trouble to hold them for him here. None at all.

Bucky buys a lot of books - a lot of books. Steve talks him into the highlighter and pen set, because Bucky’s always written in them, as well as the little tab sticky notes. Then he loads up the counter and goes to get them their free coffee refills they were promised. When he comes back Bucky is chatting amiably with the checker girl, and he smiles big and bright when he sees Steve, asks him, “Do we have a membership card pal?”

“We do!” he pulls out his wallet happily, gets their fifteen percent discount, and then lets Bucky load him up with bags for the trip home, not letting him take any but the last one, with their highlighters and tabs, and Steve’s coffee.

When they get home Bucky sorts out what books go in the bedroom - it’s become the bedroom now, Steve had just moved his stuff into Bucky’s, instead of moving those bookshelves out, when Bucky had put his foot down and told him there was no way Steve was going to sleep in another bedroom like some sort of spurned husband - and which ones are staying on the coffee table for his immediate consumption.

Steve makes a casserole for dinner, meaty and hearty, and sits on the floor with Bucky leaned against his chest, his arm around Buck as he sorts and catalogs and decides.

The next weekend Bucky feels spry and even their run can’t burn all his energy up, so Steve gears up with a baseball cap and sunglasses, and then takes them both to the zoo.

The zoo is about a thousand times cooler than it was when they were kids, and he and Bucky spend a few separate days there, making the rounds. Bucky is, for some reason, obsessed with the seals, and Steve does have to admit that the part where they pick the winners for the football games is pretty freaking cute.

(There’s no way the Giants are beating the Patriots though. That’s just a reality.)

Then they get to the elephants, and Steve is very - ridiculously excited. He makes Bucky take about five thousand pictures, which of course, go in the group text.

Netflix is one of Bucky’s favorite parts of the future.

Actually, movies are one of Bucky’s favorite parts of the future, and Steve has to start texting Sam and Clint for recommendations within the first week.

Bucky becomes an avid follower of entertainment websites, and that gives them a list of what’s leaving and what’s being added every month.

They watch Stranger Things with Bucky practically in his lap, Steve trying to provide reassurance that things end - moderately well. After that, they blow through House of Cards, though Bucky’s vocal in his desire to see Francis shot in the head. Steve agrees with him, he does, but he finds the whole premise of the show fascinating too, so Bucky mainly watches it for him.

They watch a bunch of CBS cop shows after that, getting addicted to the formula of the show. Steve has to admit that there’s something very comforting about the fact that a happy ending is pretty much guaranteed unless they’re getting close to a mid season or finale. Bucky likes them because he can still follow the plot even when he’s whacked out on painkillers, and half awake.

After they get through most of Hawaii 5 0, (they’re rationing the remainder of the episodes to hold out until the next season premieres.) and a lot of Blue Bloods, they take up The Crown. And Steve has to send Clint an apology text, because the Crown is actually really good, and he and Bucky end up watching it twice and making a trip down to the bookstore for post World War II history books, and The Complete Guide to Dr. Who.

Bucky likes Dr. Who a whole lot more than Steve does, but Steve is also capable of reading a book or sketching one of the frankly ridiculous scenes from the show, which Bucky gets a kick out of. He ends up with a lot of his sketches framed in the kitchen, hanging up where Bucky can see them and smile over his morning coffee.

Steve also finds himself sleeping through a lot of Dr. Who, sleeping through a lot actually. He takes a lot of afternoon naps, wakes up to find Bucky reading a book calmly, using his shoulder or his back as a book stand.

He doesn’t mind. Once he wakes up they have tea or coffee together in the kitchen, discuss what they want for dinner in low, halting voices, reluctant to disturb the silence. Often Bucky will bring in his book, or a journal, or just sit quietly and let Steve sketch him. It’s so reminiscent of what they used to do before the war, in their shitty little apartment, and it makes Steve’s heart hurt with the joy of it.

Sam stops by every couple of weeks, to eat real food, and sleep in a real bed for a few days. He very quickly takes over Steve’s old room, to the point that they just start putting his clothes back in the drawers there, get him one of those ridiculous comforters he likes so much, with the microfiber on the inside. Sam’s a southern boy, he’s not used to Brooklyn weather, and he’s starting to shiver as it moves into November. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony finally!
> 
> This chapter deals with making the winter soldier/ brainwashing Bucky. It can be skipped because while the contents are discussed in the next chapter, it's much less detailed.

Tony’s almost back to an even keel when he gets the email from Natasha. He’s reached the point where - if he’s not happy with Steve, he’s at least able to think about him without being filled with rage.

Now that the anger’s drained off, the hate about Rhodey and his mom, he’s only left with something thick and bitter than chokes in his throat and keeps him up at night.

He wants to be close to Steve again, wants to see the younger man as happy as Clint insists he is now, something he’s never seen.

But griefs a funny thing, or maybe it’s pride now, and it keeps him angry, keeps him distant.

He’s just about to call it a day in the lab when he gets the email, clicks on the notification that FRIDAY flashes up for him almost out of habit, already planning the movie he and Pep are going to watch tonight.

The email is from an address he doesn't recognize, but the fact that they have his email means that it’s probably legit. Still, he asks Friday to scan for him before he opens it. The AI clears it, and he clicks, unsure as to what, exactly, he’s looking at.

It’s from Natasha, he realizes, once he sees the email. He really doesn’t know anyone else paranoid enough to have an email comprised of 32 letters and five numbers, all randomly transposed. Not even Banner. Not even him.

_Tony,_

_You might not like this, but you need to see it. I’m sorry about this. For what it’s worth, I debated not sending it, but I think you’ve had enough people in your life refuse to tell you the truth. Steve should have been honest with you about Bucky, though I don’t think even he knew how far deep this one went._

_Asher is going to pull out of the accords next week. He’s pretty fed up with the UN trying to get him to give up Xavier. Ross is - getting too powerful Tony. He’s going to make a play soon, I think. Try to get Asher on something, though what I don’t know._

_Please watch your back, Tony. Thaddeus Ross is the type to break it._

_N_

They’re attachments, all of them.

Video attachments. All dated winter 1944. His Cyrillic isn’t that good, but he can at least decipher enough to read, “Winter soldier project - Phase 1.”

What he sees, - well it’s fucking horrific. Barnes endures far past what he thinks he himself could - what he knows he could actually. It’s enough to leave him palming his chest where his reactor used to lie. What had happened to him had been terrible, he knew that. What happened to him had been torture, had been scarring, had permanently changed his sense of self.

What happens to Barnes, on those videos, is much more than that. They do their very best to break him down, to reduce him to something they can mold to their will.

Barnes tells them to go fuck themselves, repeatedly. He tells them he doesn’t care for their hospitality. When they tell him that he doesn’t have a name anymore he responds by listing off every nickname he’s ever been given, in chronological order.

The only break Tony sees in his facade is the day they show him the newspaper, _Captain America lost at sea._

He breaks the interrogator's neck. Does a pretty substantial amount of damage before they manage to restrain him. Someone, Tony recognizes as Zola from his history books comes into the screen, looks at his subject, before tsking, and asking in that horrifying nasally voice, “Has all this pain taught you nothing, Soldier?”

Barnes smiles at him in a way that shows all his teeth, blood dripping down from his nose, and tells him, softly, “To endure.”

It strikes a nerve with Tony, somewhere in the back of his mind. He’s heard that somewhere before, he just can’t place where.

He wants to stop watching when the chair comes out, but can’t bring himself to. He finally sees the last of the life drain from Barnes’ eyes, his brain finally shutting down after the repeated damages.

A regular man would be dead by now.

He makes it to the part where they begin fixing on the new arm, and making adjustments to the metal struts they have placed in Barnes’ skeleton. He’s about to turn it off when he notices another scientist in the corner of the frame, making adjustments to the arm they’ve removed for the time being. Tony is too busy trying to figure out what he’s doing to the servos there, to realize how very familiar the man looks, and the voice, when it comes, makes his blood run cold,

“Another couple of sessions and this should be done. I need to put it on him though, see about the response time.”

Zola just nods, says something about doing that as soon as the metal takes, all while Barnes watches on blankly, not recognizing either man.

Tony recognizes both of them though.

One is Arnim Zola, chief scientist behind most of HYDRA's Soviet era atrocities.

The other is his father.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of concentration camps, and the fact that Steve liberated a few. Not graphic.

Bucky is dozing, using Steve as a body pillow. Steve’s got his hand carding through Bucky’s hair, and his other hand firmly on his best friend's back, and both have combined to turn Bucky into a particularly happy cat.

There’s some cooking show playing on Netflix that neither one of them are paying attention to, and the windows and the storm door are open to the terrace outside, letting in the soft rainy smell and the (slightly) cooler breeze. Bucky considers it the height of luxury to take to bed after dinner if they don’t have anything else going on, and he’ll play games on his phone or read while Steve draws. Bucky had been telling him something about Zola this afternoon though, and as soon as they had gotten into bed he’d planted himself on Steve’s chest, still a little bit shaky.

Steve’s more than happy to oblige his best guy’s requests for cuddles, and this had led to the current position they’re occupying, and the happy rumbles in Bucky’s throat.

He’s not expecting it when his phone starts blasting AC-DC, though he’s happy to note that Bucky’s relaxed enough that he doesn’t even move.

He’s also not expecting to hear nothing but silence on the other end of the line when he answers. He manages a brief, “Tony?” and just hears a choked off noise before Tony says, “I need - I need you to come over. Just for a few minutes.”

He can count on one hand the number of times Tony has asked him for something, so he just says, “Of course. Of course. I’ll be right there man.”

Bucky grumbles a little bit, but Tony and Steve have come to a sort of detente, if nothing else, so he lets Steve off of him, rolls into the warm spot left by his body, and tells him, “Get back before ten or I’m watching Iron Chef without you.”

“That’s cold, Buck.”

Bucky shrugs, tells him, “Hope Starks okay.” and Steve takes those well wishes (for what they’re worth) into the night with him.

Stark tower is mostly dark when he gets there, and at first he wonders if Tony forgot to tell him they went upstate for the weekend, but the doors open when he gets closer, and Friday presses the right button on the elevator once he gets there, so he doesn’t argue, just settles back against the wall, checking his texts and making sure there’s nothing from Bucky.

He’s just put his phone back in his pocket when the elevator doors open, and he sees Tony in the middle of the lab, digging through a couple of boxes of stuff. Tony looks up when he steps into the room, and his face is so pale that Steve reaches out a hand for him automatically, asking him, “Tony? What’s wrong?”

Tony looks stricken, and he tells Steve, “I swear to you I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t.”

“Tony - didn’t know what? I’m really confused pal.”

Tony shakes his head, chokes for a minute, then manages a terrible, “My dad.”

“Your dad what, Tony? I don’t - is this about Bucky? Did you find another video?”

“Oh God.” Tony’s knees buckle, and Steve reaches for his arm immediately, anchors onto him gently, gets him sitting down on the floor, facing him, their shoulders so close they’re almost touching.

Tony is shaking, trembling with pain, and Steve rubs his arm gently, asks, “Where’s Rhodey Tony? Let me get him down here, ok? You’re really upset, and it can’t be good for you - “

“My dad. He was - he was.” He seems to lose his nerve then, chokes out, “Just look, please.”

Steve doesn’t know what he’s looking at for a moment, but he finally manages to find the tablet Tony’s pointing to.

It’s some sort of file, one of those old carbon copied ones, but digitized scanned into something. He can’t make the handwriting out at first, but then he realizes what it is.

It’s a prototype - a patent.

For a metal arm.

Howard Starks signed it at the bottom.

“Tony - “

“There’s videos if you’d rather watch those. It’s - towards the end, but my God Cap, it’s some of the worst shit I’ve ever seen. And my father- My father…”

“Tony - what are you saying? Howard was - “

“Oh yeah. From the beginning. I found the trial records for Zola, Howard was in there every other day, like clockwork.”

“He was trying to get the schematics for - “

“The tiger tanks, yeah. He had those, like three months before. They - they were talking about Barnes, Steve. About what - “

“About what Zola was going to - “

“Yeah.”

“Jesus.” He can’t see straight for a minute, has to take those deep breaths the therapist is always swearing by.

Tony’s crying, his eyes watering almost constantly, and he says, “I didn’t know, Steve. I swear to God I didn’t know. If I’d had any idea - even an inkling.”

He rubs a hand down his face - tells Steve, “They were keeping him in a vault outside of Jersey until late ‘13. I’m so sorry - this is - you must hate me now.”

“Tony.” He reaches for the man gently, tells him, “Of course not. Of course, you didn’t know.”

“I would never - “

“Tony, I know that.” He pulls back to look in Tony’s eyes, “I know that. I know that you would never do anything like that. Of course, I do. Bucky knows that too, okay? I don’t think he remembers anything with the arm, but I’ll tell him, and we’ll see, okay?But no one blames you for this, Tony. Nobody. It never even occurred to me that you might know. Ok? Never even crossed my mind.”

Tony’s whole body deflates in relief, and he leans into Steve, even more, whispering, “I was so angry with you - and now - Oh God. I feel so stupid.”

“You can be angry, Tony. I should have told you. It was cruel of me not to. I was just - afraid. Afraid I’d lose you I guess. And then the accords - “

He sighs, a long minute, tells him, “That’s how this shit starts, you know? First, they just want to know where everyone is, and what they’re doing - and then. And then- “

Tony is looking at him, consideringly, until he asks, “Auschwitz?”

“Dachau too. I sent Buck away with Gabe to get supplies, couldn’t stand the idea that there might some of his family there.”

“Was there?”

Steve lets out a big breath, tells him, “No. They, uh, they were Romanian and they’d - it’d been a while already. But I didn’t want Buck to see. I’m sure he knew about it anyway though.”

“Barnes isn’t a Jewish name.”

Steve nods, tells him, “On his mom’s side Tony.”

“Oh.”

Tony seems happy to stay leaning against him, but he’s shivering, and Steve puts a hand on his back, tells him, “We should get you upstairs. Warmed up. You need to eat something, ok? You had a pretty big shock.”

Tony blows out a breath through his teeth, tells him, “We’ve got a problem, Steve.”

“Okay.”

“Thaddeus Ross was one of my dad’s poker buddies.”

“Well fuck.”


	15. Chapter 15

Steve still insists he needs to eat something, and when Tony tells him he can’t face Pepper right now, had texted her to bail, he ends up taking him home to Bucky.

Tony’s wary, understandably he thinks, because last time he and Barnes were in the same room together, a meltdown of epic proportions occurred. He doesn’t know how to say it - can’t even look at the man while Steve explains, gently, what they’d learned.

Bucky cocks his head, then says, very softly, “I'm sorry about your Ma.”

Tony just nods, puts his face in his hands, tells him, “I can’t even begin to make amends - to make this right.”

“No. No.” Bucky’s voice and the firmness in it make him jerk his head up, and Bucky tells him, “My Da - he took real good care of me. I don’t need - I don’t need anything right now. What your father did.”

Tony’s eyes widen, but BUcky tells him, “That’s not you, pal. You’re a good guy.”

“I tried to kill you!”

Bucky laughs, tells him, “If I held a grudge about that, I’d never talk to anyone but Stevie here. And Wilson.”

Tony shakes his head, “I shot your arm off.”

“And that hurt, I’d love if you didn’t do it again. But it's nothing that’s not - understandable, shall we say. “

Tony shakes his head, disbelieving as Steve plops a plate of french toast in front of him, and another in front of Bucky. He asks, “You want eggs, Buck?” Not surprised when Barnes nods, then asks Tony.

“With cheese?”

“Sure, but I gotta do Buck’s first.”

“Ok.” He knows enough about kosher to understand why, and he digs into the serving he’s been given.

Steve puts him to bed on the couch, digging up an Afghan so old it’s soft as silk, and a very fluffy pillow. He’s asleep almost before he can set an alarm, and the last thing he hears is Steve asking for Mike Banning’s extension.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Craig mentioned here is the VP. I'm sure the og guy had a name in the movie, but sadly, I don't have time in my life to rewatch/see what it was. So! Craig!

It turns out, if you want to control the news cycle for an entire day, all you have to do is pull out of an international treaty.

Ben Asher shouldn’t find this as amusing as he does, but he feels like it’s mostly because he’s been up since four, has had three cups of coffee, and is altogether ready to crash, and he’s still got three hours to go.

Most of his day got thrown out when he got the message from Mike last night, from one Steve Rogers from one Tony Stark.

Stark had been pretty helpful for a guy who’d just had his worldview shattered, and he’d had enough information on Ross to make Ben believe his story when he told him that Ross was most likely a HYDRA operative.

Clint’s working on it, now that he knows there are ties to Howard Stark. He’s been digging through Stark’s files for the last couple of hours, with Lennox hanging out in Ben’s receiving area to give him updates when he gets them.

He’s had two press conferences already, and he’s giving the statement this evening. Mike’s currently in way overblown protective mode, and that means that literally all of his meetings are taking place with Mike Banning glaring at practically everyone that’s not him or Craig. Mike actually quite like’s Craig, says he’s the only person who’s got good sense. Ben suspects that’s because Craig had agreed with Mike about the increased protection, and had allowed Mike to sit in on their meeting with no protest.

Ben’s known Craig for twenty years though. He’s not HYDRA, of that he’s surer than almost anything.

It doesn’t help that Maggie’s backing Mike up either, and he wants that noted. His bulldog of a security agent didn’t need any encouragement.

After some coaxing Mike’’s been made to agree that Alan Trumbull, as much as they might dislike one another, is probably not a member of a Nazi organization, and leaves them alone for that meeting at least.

Trumbull’s the only one who seems to think it’s funny, commenting that “He does a good job, at least.”

Ben laughs at that, asks, “How’s Freddy taking it?”

Freddy’s the minority whip, who’s Ben been working on pissing off for most of the last year. Trumbull's mouth twists a little bit, but he tells him, “He’ll live - I think. Thre’s been a lot of yelling this morning, or at least that’s what Jeremy tells me.”

Jeremy - Trumbull’s aide, is a boy so shy he still hasn’t managed to look Ben in the eye (or get past Mike’s growling.) The kid’s smart though, and the shit he knows -

“How’d the prime minister take it?”

Ben shakes his head ruefully, admits, “I didn’t think he knew that many swear words. Churchill’d be proud. He really let me have it.”

Trumbull laughs at that, asks, “and France?”

“Well I didn’t understand some of them, but pretty sure that he let me have it too. Maggie’d know.”

“Wakanda’s happy though?”

“Wakanda, most of the northern Europeans, Russia. Can’t think of the last time a policy decision of mine made Russia happy. Of course, they can pull out now, and so can Italy and Greece. We’ll see about the rest of the EU. Once I got Marceau to stop screaming at me he agreed that the way it’s been enforced - they have serious concerns. And now with that’s happening with Ross, it’s going to be a hell of a lot easier to just pull out and rethink than it’ll be to rewrite. Sokovia - understandably - is pissed, but with what went down with Zemo they’re laying low. We’ll see how much mileage we get out of that.”

He needs to pick a new secretary of state. Trumbull’s already made it very clear that he is not the person for that job. He tells Ben he’ll work on getting the rest of their congressman into line, but that the Senate majority is pissed, and Craig’s not gonna have much luck this time talking him down.

It sounds about right, and Ben just nods, wonders if he has enough time to put his head down on the desk for ten minutes.

Mike knocks on the door then, Lennox is standing on the other side with a laptop, and Ben looks at him seriously, asks, “You got him?”

“We got him. Clint found the slush fund, Mueller’s got the warrant, we got Aksel to issue it since everyone knows how much he hates you. There’s no way the two of you would be in on something together.”

Lennox pauses for a minute, then tells him, “Clint has some other names too. The whole upper ring, he thinks. It depends on what he can get Ross to confess to. He's going to arrest Ross, see if he can lean on him tonight."

Clint seems to more than have this under control, so Ben okays it, then asks Mike, “How long do I have until the Vice President?”

Mike tells him, “I’ll get him to push back half an hour. Put your head down.”

Mike’s a good person.


	17. Chapter 17

His phone blowing up is what wakes him.

Bucky shakes his head and buries his face in Steve’s side, not wanting to wake up before the sun is up.

Steve doesn’t blame him, but there are about forty messages on his phone, half from Clint and half from Tony.

He just texts Tony back, eventually.

He appreciates the concern, but they can’t touch Bucky. Steve’s got a very expensive lawyer on retainer how assures him of that fact.

Bucky mumbles something like, “Turn your fucking ringer off.” and Steve obliges, flips his phone face down on the bed, and goes back to sleep.

When he wakes up again, his phone has given up trying to keep track of his notifications, and he has to click on his message icon to get the full total.

“117” he reports to Bucky’s slow moving back.

Bucky, the light of his life that he is, flips him the bird lazily before turning his head further into the pillow and dozing back off. 

The big headline in his news app today is,  _General Thaddeus Ross, ten others, arrested as part of a deep cover spy ring._

It's the end of Hydra on this continent at least, and Steve knows who to thank for it. 

 

Steve flips through some of his text messages, before he notices his missed calls, ten of them, all from Tony, and clicks to call the man back.

Tony answers the phone with, “Tell me you have a good lawyer.”

“Yeah. Why, what’s going on?”

Tony sounds skeptical, “Really? Who is it? Cuz you need a good one for the Hague buddy.”

“The Hague? What the fuck are you talking about Tony?”

Tony huffs out an annoyed sigh, tells him, “Turn on the news, Steve. Doesn’t matter what channel.”

He goes out into the living room, flicks the TV on to channel 2, and looks as his own face stares back at him from the headlines.

_Captain Steve Rogers called to appear before the Hague on charges of 1943 War Crimes._

“Huh.”

He never thought that’d come up again. Not after - not after Dachau.

“Who’s your lawyer Steve?”

“Howard Zane.”

“He’s good. Good with this kind of stuff, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s the one who got the army to cough up all of Buck’s back pay.”

“Steve - “ Tony pauses for a minute, then asks, “That guy -”

He swallows, waits a long minute, then answers, “Yeah. Yeah, Tony, I killed him,”

Tony’s quiet for a long minute before he asks, almost casually, “What did he do?”

Steve goes to the fridge, starts pulling things out for breakfast tells Tony, “ He was behind most of the experiments in Azzano. “

Tony lets out a breathless laugh, asks, “It’s always been the same with you, hasn't it?”

Steve shrugs, “End of the line, Tony."


	18. Chapter 18

T'Challa, among all of their friends, gets the dubious honor of escorting Steve to the international courts in Holland. He’s not particularly sure of the details of the court case, but he knows that Azzano had been a German POW camp in the second World War. He also knows why Steven had killed the man that he had, and the particular reason the US Army had declined to press charges. 

Wakanda had been neutral in that war, and T’Challa had not been educated much beyond the basics, but after meeting Rogers and Barnes he’d take the time to read up on the western front and America’s role in the war.

It was interesting to see that part of history, so far removed, but no one can deny Roger’s role in winning World War two. T’Challa is more than a little surprised that this is even coming up.

Shuri had had a theory when T’Challa had asked her, told him, “I think that the UN is trying to get back at him- take a swipe at him. They figure he’s the reason that Asher pulled out, and that they’re going to ‘punish’ him or something - making Asher regret pulling out at all.”

T’Challa thinks she’s right. The Hague’s scratching the bottom of the barrel with this, in his opinion, but he’ll have to see.

Steve, and Steve’s attorney both sit quietly in their seats. Steve’s in a very nice suit, T’Challa suspects Tony might have something to do with that. He’s leaning his head back against his seat rest, his eyes closed. His attorney is typing something at an almost manic pace on his phone.

T’Challa had expected Barnes to put up more of a fuss about wanting to go along, but the united forces of Tony Stark and Sam Wilson had managed to convince him to stay in New York with the caveat that Clint can have him there in a few hours if absolutely necessary.

Steve looks relaxed and at ease, but T’Challa can see the tension in his spine, feel the awkwardness between him and his lawyer.

The whole situation is - regrettable, and part of T’Challa does wonder if this is some UN version of retribution. Rogers has been awake for years, it doesn’t make sense that they’ve only dragged this out now for a specific reason.

When they arrive at the Hague he and Steve are shown to separate rooms, Steve, he suspects, more perfunctorily than him. He pulls out his phone, asks.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with war crimes committed during the holocaust (briefly), human experimentation, and Steve killing someone. It's not terribly graphic, but it's definitely there/discussed.

The Hague, Steve decides very quickly, is a place he should absolutely avoid all contact with in the future. 

It's very clinical, very austere.   
Steve supposes that it's meant to make people feel guilty, and maybe that's part of the problem - he doesn't feel guilty for killing Fischer. He can't bring himself to regret it at all.

Zane had tried to get him to not take the stand, but in the end, Steve had out-stubborned him, the combined forces of him and Tony both. He doesn't like it, but he had agreed to it, so he just sits - silent and sullen, as Steve takes the stand and is sworn in. 

The prosecutor wastes no time in getting straight to the meat of things, bringing up the military report that details his actions in the Fischer incident, in what was eventually ruled an accidental death. 

Steve is guessing, from the shocked faces of the English and American members, that they skip this little incident in the history books.

Eventually, the lawyer asks him, "Did you or did you not kill Johann Fischer, on February 10, 1943?"

He leans down to the mike slightly, and answers, clearly and firmly, "I did."

The prosecutor looks stunned, but he rallies quickly, asks, "You freely admit that you killed an unarmed noncombatant in Allied territory."

Steve cocks his head, wonders what else they're leaving out of the history books these days.

"I killed a madman who had made a career out of torturing my fellow soldiers - as well as civilians - because he was going to be released as part of a negotiation. Yes."

"Fischer was - "

"The mastermind of medical experimentation that's frankly horrific. Especially on the scale, he was operating on. The man had been experimenting on soldiers as long as they had POWs in Azanno. Before that, if he got bored, they'd drag some poor infantryman in for him to toy with."

"And how do you know this, Captain Rogers?"

"He told me. He told everyone. We were attempting to calculate the death toll in Azanno, to notify all of the people who'd lost family members. He bragged about how many people he'd killed - how we'd never find them. 

"Of course later we found out he'd played a part in the atrocities of Dachau also - that's why he was on the train that day."

"The day you captured Armin Zola."  
"Yes."  
"The day Sargeant James Barnes fell from the same train - and was declared MIA."  
He swallows hard, says, "Yes."

"Sargeant Barnes is on record as stating that Zola was his chief - "

"Torturer."  
"Chief torturer at Azanno. And yet you claim that Fischer was responsible for the suffering that your friend endured?"

"He was responsible for the suffering of over a thousand people, yes. Zola answered to him. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Fischer was the mastermind behind the HYDRA science division."  
Steve chokes on his words for a minute, before he finally manages to say, "There were people who had no skin left on their bodies when we found them. Fischer was attempting to see at what rate regeneration from the serum slowed, and any sort of wounds wouldn't be addressed by the bodies."

 

There were soldiers there - Steve remembers, that he almost couldn't recognize as people anymore. Things that keep him up nights even now sometimes. 

Dachau - Dachau had been worse - but it had been the scale of it, that made it so bad. 

Azanno - Azanno had echoed - with the screams of the wounded, and the groans and whimpers of men too weak even for that.

They'd gone back, he and Howard and a whole team of men, Phillips included, to see about the experimentation in what was left of the buildings that the fire hadn't touched. 

Most of the men had been dead by then - long past any suffering, but there were people, some of them German, some of them American, all still strapped to tables that he'd bypassed in his race to save Bucky, cut up and pulled apart - and -

Bucky didn't know - probably still doesn't. They'd given him morphine that first night - for the withdrawals to help him sleep, and when Steve snuck into the infirmary in the morning he'd found Dernier gripping Buck's hand gently, murmuring something soothing to him in French. Bucky'd opened his eyes, still glassy with drugs, when Steve had come in, smiled at him dopily, tried to kiss him, whispering, "Where you been, huh?"  
Steve had settled him, looked to Dernier who'd shaken his head, smiling, told him, "Our secret Capitan." 

Steve will never forget it. Couldn't sleep for a week with that stamped behind his eyeballs, wouldn't tell Bucky why he held him so tight at night, took shuddery breaths at the smell of his hair, the feel of his nose in the crook of Steve's neck.

Bucky - alive and almost well again, eating like a horse, and sleeping well, mending as well as someone can mend from something like that, benefitting from the quiet and Peggy's easy company. 

The prosecutor looks - taken aback - and Steve tells him, "He was wanted at Nuremberg, you know that, right? For what he did in Dachau. The atrocities he committed."

 

The man rallies, admirably, tells him, "You committed an atrocity Captain. You beat the man to death - "  
T'Challa's eyebrows raise ever so slightly in the corner of his vision, and Steve can't deny that fact. He had done it. It'd taken his entire squad and half an SAS troop to pull him off the man, and even then it'd been Peggy who'd finally gotten him to come away, calm down - telling Steve - "He wouldn't want this darling, not from you."

He finally gathers himself, tells the man, "If you want me to apologize I won't do it. He'd - he'd hurt so many people at that point. And he was sitting there - telling me he'd hurt so many more. I can't bring myself to regret that. I'll never be able to."  
"And you don't think that the League of Nations - "  
"You know, I really don't. Considering the fact that this organization didn't actually exist at the time, but that your counterpart had neglected to intervene in the entirety of the Holocaust, I think I can be forgiven for deciding that something needed to be done here."

He pauses, takes a deep breath, "And while we're on the subject - I find the absolute lack of recognition of HYDRA as an organization that has committed human atrocities appalling. We've seen the testimony of several HYDRA survivors, in this past year, mind you - that have talked about the brainwashing, the torture. Wanda Maximoff - "

"Was convicted of war crimes against the - "  
"Was convicted of nothing other than not agreeing rank and file with your precious Sokovia Accords. The same accords that tried to make her state property, so no I don't think I blame her for passing on that!"

"May I remind you, Captain Rogers, that your own name was brought into the hearings for Accords violations - and "  
"And what? Becuase last time I checked, I was an American citizen. You have exactly as much authority over me as my government decides to allow you. 

"I'm sorry if I couldn't stand by and allow the United Nations to Shanghai the most important person in my life into a lifetime of imprisonment - without trial by the way. 

"And while we're on the subject of Sokovia, I would love to know what the UN was doing to help what was essentially a failed state for ten of the last fifteen years. I know that the US had sent help, I know that the UK, France and several other nations were sending aid, but in all the time we've spent going round and round about these things, I have never once heard about a UN presence before you guys decided that you needed to make a bunch of rules to govern a bunch of people you've never even fuckin' met. It's really classy that that's how you want to play it. Especially since you're supposed to be protecting people from exploitation, and abuse, and all sorts of things that these accords leave thousands, if not tens of thousands vulnerable to."

 

"The point of this hearing is to determine your role in the death of Johann Fischer, in 1943."

"Well, bud, I think you've pretty well determined it, haven't' you? I did it. All by myself, and I will be damned to hell below before I feel sorry for it. Now, unless you have something to charge me with - which I'm pretty sure you don't since the US Army declined to press charges seventy years ago - I do have other things to do in my life, besides pandering to this useless organization, and it's idiotic demands."

He stands, motions to his lawyer, sees T'Challa stand out of the corner of his eye. The prosecutor tries to bluster, snaps, "We are not done, Captain."  
"Oh fuck you." He throws in a middle finger for good measure, tells him, "If you have anything else inane to say about the time I helped win World War II, you can pass it along to my lawyer. If nobody else has anything to actually contribute - I'm going home." 

The prosecutor tells him, “You will never be accepted as Captain America again. Never allowed in these halls, or to the negotiating table, to represent your nation again - “

Steve snaps then - turns around, gets close to the man’s face, tells him, “You can keep the stupid mask. I’m sure Tony Stark will be happy to mail you the goddamned shield.”

He pauses for a long minute, tells the man, “It has been a millstone around my neck the last seventy-five years - and I thank God I’ve come to be rid of it.”

And he means it. He really does. He is so very tired of being Captain America, of carrying the weight of a nation on his shoulders. 

They're broader than they used to be, but the load's finally gotten far too heavy, and Steve - he is ready to set it down. 

So when he walks out of the court, T'Challa says nothing, even though his eyes are flooded over with tears, relief, and exhaustion and a sudden sharp grief hitting all at once. He guides Steve to the jet, helps him buckle in, asks softly, "Do you want to go to Wakanda?"

Steve shakes his head, tells him, "I want to go home."


	20. Chapter 20

Tony calls him ten minutes after he's back in Brooklyn, and Steve just hears slow clapping over the phone as he walks down to the subway terminal. He can't help but laugh, free and easy for the first time in three days, and he tilts his head up to the sky for a brief minute - before asking, more vulnerable than he'd ever thought he'd be with Tony, "Do you hate me now?"

"What? No, Steve. I could never hate you. Especially not - not for that. I know some of the things Johann Fischer did, some of the things you didn't mention."

There’s a long pause, and then Tony tells him, “I would have given you the shield back Steve.”

He shakes his head, pauses on the street long enough to press a hand to his eyes, takes a steadying breath, and tell Tony - “It was so heavy. It's been - so heavy all these years. I don’t think I can carry it anymore.”

Tony doesn’t say anything for a long minute, until he answers back, “I can’t think of anyone who deserves a rest more than you.”

Steve sighs in relief. A long, long release of pressure and Tony asks, "Where are you, man?" 

"About a block away from home. Bucky's ordered the Chinese, and he's queued up the Netflix so - "

Tony laughs, tells him, "Sounds like your in good hands then."

He stays on the line with Steve until he gets to the apartment's door, tells him, "Have fun with your man, Rogers."

Steve blinks a little, hadn't realized that Tony knew about that, but he ends up just telling him, "Thanks, Tony. I'll see you in about a week?"

"About a week. Take care of yourself, Rogers."

 

Bucky's waiting by the door, and as soon as Steve shuts it behind them he wraps his arm around him, telling him, "The worlds been very cruel to you today, hmm?" 

Steve just nods, lets himself lean against Bucky and take some deep breaths. The other man just holds him for as long as he needs, swaying back and forth with him for a long minute until he pulls away, nodding when Bucky asks him, "Are you ready for Chinese?" 

He nods and spends the rest of the night curled up on the couch with Bucky's hand running through his hair as they rewatch the crown again. 

 

The next day he and Bucky drive up to the cemetery where Howard Stark is buried. 

They put the shield in the backseat, wrapped in the oilcloth Tony had taken to keeping it in. Bucky doesn't seem to understand what exactly Steve is doing, but he's a good enough man, a good enough lover, that he doesn't ask questions this time, just presses a hot cup of coffee into Steve's hand and drives the car.

 

When they finally arrive Bucky doesn't get out of the car, tells Steve, "I think you'd better go up alone, doll."

Steve considers, and nods, opens the door and then pulls the shield out of the back, walks up the hill. 

It's a nice mausoleum, no surprise that Tony had bought a nice one. Steve'd already cleared it with the other man, who'd told him, "Do what you want, Steve. I'm surprised no one's leaked it yet, but I imagine they will eventually. It'll be covered in spray paint before too long."

Steve doesn't think so. The security at this place seems pretty okay.

He's glad that there's a little gate you have to open to get into the mausoleum, but the supplies Steve had asked for are already there. 

It'd been a family plot when Tony'd bought it. Four or five slots. He'd told Steve to take the one in the middle, it is just wide enough like Tony's said it would be.

Steve drops the shield into the hole in the marble floor with a heavy thunk, hearing the reverberation of the metal vibrating with the shock. 

The cement's already in the bucket, he just has to add water and stir, pour until the hole is full. Smooth with the trowel. 

He finds himself talking as he does so, nothing really, just inane things about the Avengers, Tony. 

He starts speaking about the Hague softly, says, "They told me I wasn't welcome anymore. I don't think they meant for me to be as happy as I am."

 

Once the mix is homogenous he pours steadily. One bucket isn't quite enough, so he mixes another, uses about three quarters. The top curve of the Sheild is the last to go, swallowed up eventually by the dredge. Steve smoothes with the trowel as best he can before he wipes his hands off with the rag someone had left and stands. 

He stares at the plague with Howard's name on it for a long time, trying to think of something - enough - to say. Wise enough, sad enough. Cruel enough. 

Words fail him in the end. They quite often do, these days. He doesn't have all of the answers like he used to, so he stands, and he stares. 

Captain America was Howard's creation, really. It feels right that it's buried with him. 

He walks back down to the hill, where Bucky's waiting, leaned against the car and playing some sort of match game on his phone. 

Bucky looks up at him and smiles beatifically when he hears him, still about half a mile away, and Steve can't help but smile back. 

Leave the dead to the dead, his mother had always said. 

Steve is attempting to take that advice now.


	21. Chapter 21

Clint ends up with a massive amount of people in his house on the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving. 

Tony is sleeping in the day room. He'd crashed pretty much immediately after they'd gotten in, and Clint had wasted no time showing him where he was sleeping and telling the man to go to sleep, and they'd see him in the morning. 

Steve and Bucky are in one of the upstairs guest rooms, across the hall from Nat's. Steve's looking a little bit shaky still if the protective way Barnes is looping his arm around Steve's back has anything to do with it.

Nat had taken one of the bags from Steve's shoulders, shown Bucky where they were staying, and they'd both laid down for a nap, while Nat came down to help him with all of the day before prep he was trying to bang out during Nathaniel's nap.

Pietro had gotten up this morning, obviously nervous about his space being invaded, and Mueller had seen that, had taken the boy out to the barn with Lennox and his sister. They're working on his shooting abilities, and the boy seems more than happy to allow himself the distractions today.

Clint knows people make him nervous sometimes, but this is his family, so he feels it's important enough to push the kid. He needs to have people around him, needs to get used to that, and not push everyone away just because he's suffering. 

Like Clint did

Pepper's in the corner of his kitchen with Sam. Sam's flipping through a magazine, his leg propped up on another chair to ice his ankle, sprained on the last mission. Pepper's typing something on a laptop and they're both sipping coffee. 

Coop's sitting on the bench seat at the table, doing some of his take home work for the long weekend. Lila's out with Laura picking up a few things for tomorrow. 

T'Challa doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving, obviously, but Clint had invited him anyway, and he and two of his sisters had gratefully taken Clint up on the invitation. They'd landed about an hour ago, and according to the text 

All in all, everyone in his family who could be here is here, and it warms his heart a little bit. 

Nat notices his smile, nudges him a little bit with one elbow, asks, "What's got you so happy, hmm?"

He shakes his head, tells her, "Nothing, really. Just - grateful."


	22. Chapter 22

Clint and Laura know how to throw Thanksgiving. Bucky wants to give him credit for that.

Both his parents had been immigrants, and while he remembers there being turkey, they always saved more for Hanukkah and Rosh Hosanna. Especially during the depression years.

Clint and Laura had gone all out, and the table is practically groaning with food.

Laura had been more than happy to walk him through the side dishes and the extras she and Clint make every year, and before he knows it, he has a plate filled with absolutely everything. The Bartons have their dining table expanded as far as it goes, and then another table pushed against the end. He's sitting next to Steve and Sam with Pietro and Wanda sitting right across from him. Lennox is sitting on Pietro's right, keeping one eye on the younger man, and making spirited baseball conversation with Steve. Tony's at the bottom with Pepper and the rest of Clint's squad and Clint himself, while Laura's sitting by Nat. Clint and Laura have the kids all between him, and Clint's feeding Nathaniel his pureed pumpkin in between bites of his own meal.

It's everything he remembers from family dinners back home, and he's grateful that Clint had thought to invite them both.

The party starts to break up after dessert, Tony and Pepper have to get back to New York to get ready for the cyber Monday sale the company's running. That seems to be T'Challa's cue to get going also, and he and his sisters depart fairly quickly afterward.

Steve and Bucky end up taking off the next day, driving back, so they can see some of sights. They end up stopping for a night in Pennsylvania Dutch country. The inn is lovely, though they tell the charming little old lady proprietress that they're brothers, and then have to act like brothers the entire time they sit through supper.

Neither one of them sleep. The inn's far too quiet for their liking, born and bred city boys that they are.

Clint's house had been busy with its own noises, the sounds of people talking, people breathing. A baby crying occasionally. The hum of the heater and the creak of old wood as it settled down. It hadn’t felt eerily quiet like this one does.

They set out early the next morning, are back in Brooklyn late in the evening. They order take out, watch Netflix, and Steve takes his hand very gently, tells him, “We need to talk about the holidays. Do you want to do Hannukah this year?”

Bucky shakes his head - Hannakah had always been the more celebrated in their house. His Da had loved getting them presents, little things leading up to the day, and then one big gift.

He always got them Christmas presents too, but Hannukah - it’d been special, and Bucky’s never celebrated it without his Ma. The idea of that - too foreign, makes his eyes well with tears, and he shakes his head, too distraught to give a real explanation why - just that he really doesn’t want to.

Steve takes that as an answer, tells him, “I’m gonna insist on at least a little bit of Christmas, okay? Just something nice for the two of us.”

And that - that does sound nice. He can go along with Christmas easily enough. That can be something just for the two of them.

Steve seems determined to enjoy the holiday, getting a tree and stockings to hang on their mantle. He's enjoying it so much he even gets Bucky in on it, playing Christmas carols on his phone and looking up gingerbread recipe on his phone. Their house ends up being a lopsided affair, but Steve loves it anyway, takes about a thousand pictures of it.

They don't do Hanukkah properly, but when Bucky remembers dreidels Steve goes out and gets one, with the chocolate coins as well. They spend a very pleasant evening that way, the tv on low in the background. Steve tells him stories of playing this game in years past, especially the year Jack had brought some of his "associates" home. They're reflexes were much faster than Steve's or Bucky's, and they spent most of the night grabbing the top by the stem as it spun round the table.

They'd brought presents too though. Bucky remembers that endearing them to everyone under the age of fifteen. 

 

Steves insistent that they do other things too - with people. They go to see the tree lighting ceremony, and the Rockettes.

Steve doesn't appreciate his comments about how he's sure Steve has better form.

They invite Tony and Pepper up for Christmas Eve, and Tony to their surprise accepts. He brings a bottle of sparkling cider and the board game Risk. It's completely ridiculous, and not at all like the somber occasions of their youth, but it's still good, and since neither one of them are feeling up to mass this year, its a nice way to pass the time. Tony seems to have recovered from his shock earlier in the year, he looks as though he's sleeping more, less overtaken with what Howard had done

For all of Tony Starks flaws, he was not his father's son. Bucky will keep telling him that until he believes him.

Tony glances at his phone as he left. He'd been looking for it all night before Pepper had pulled it out of his coat pocket triumphantly. His face pales and Steve asks, “Whats the matter?”.

Tony puts his phone back in his pocket, tells him, “The President's wife died. Car accident."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just to keep continuity with the movie Olympus has Fallen, and also maybe set the stage for something I might do. You absolutely don't have to feel sad about the president's wife.


	23. Chapter 23

Steve wakes up at a frankly ridiculous time on Christmas morning and goes about trying to squirm himself free of the octopus he lives with.

Usually, he’s more than happy to have a long, lazy lie in with his fella, but today - he has to get up, has to walk down to the pet shop two blocks away from their apartment.

When Bucky was younger, he’d had a dog his Da had rescued from some farm in his rum-running days. The man had been about to drown the whole litter of pups, nothing to feed them, not with times so hard. Jack Barnes had paid the man a dollar for the lot, Bucky’dbrought two home to his kids, and doled out the rest to the neighborhood parish. Bucky had loved that dog, had named it Grimes after the Dodger's pitcher at the time. 

 

Grimes had followed them everywhere when they weren’t in school. Bucky had been famous for not wanting to go anywhere Grimes couldn’t. Steve, thankfully, hadn’t been allergic to dogs, so Grimes had spent more than one winter’s day curled up at the end of Steve’s bed while he and Bucky did homework, or Bucky read. Grimes had had a long life, and Bucky'd been crushed when he died, though he’d picked up Jack Barnes’ habit of picking up strays. He’d been rescuing kittens from the river for years before he’d gone to war, and the ladies in their building had had plenty of little companions thanks to Bucky's habit of jumping in after them. He'd saved a couple of lapdogs that way too, his mother had taken both of those. 

Bucky was afraid of dogs now, for reasons that Steve still can't get out of him, but Steve had seen the wistful looks he'd given the pet shop window as they'd gone by, and he'd finally figured out what was catching Buck's eye.

Rabbits. They're a rare enough sight, wild, in Brooklyn, that Bucky hasn't had much experience with them, though Steve does vaguely remember Bucky saving a magician's rabbit, with a broken leg. The man had tossed it out like trash behind one of the Irish clubs, and Bucky had been the one to take it to the vet - pay for it's keeping too. 

The gray short hair he'd picked out is quiet and calm when the owner places it into its travel kennel, along with the food, bedding, and other little things Steve'd picked out for it. He can't help but speak softly to it as he walks back to their apartment, telling it about Bucky.   
"That's the fella I'm giving you to. He's a real good guy. Quiet now, but so are you, huh? That'll be a good fit. 

"He's gentle though. Careful. More than I am. He'll be careful with you."

Bucky's still asleep when Steve gets back to the apartment, and he barely stirs when Steve sits on the bed, pulls out his present. The rabbit's heart is beating so fast that Steve can feel it through its fur. Bucky doesn't stir until Steve lays the animal on his chest, and then he opens his eyes slowly until he catches sight of the little ball of fluff that's decided the space right above his heart is a good place to lie. 

Bucky's lips quirk in a soft smile, and he places his hand gently on the rabbits head, murmurs, "Well hey there."  
The rabbit's nose twitches as it comes closer to lean its forepaws on Bucky's chest.

Steve thinks it's the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


	24. Epilogue

Bucky has a hard winter. 

Steve had expected it. For all the progress Bucky had made these last few months, he's still not completely well, and it's begun to show as they got closer to Christmas. Bucky had wanted to be well for the holidays, but the day after New Years it finally shows how badly he's been feeling. 

Steve takes him to the doctor, but while the older man is sympathetic, he can't do much for a body that's overtaxed and too stressed. 

"Rest." he tells Steve, "Rest and good food. He'll do the majority of the work himself."

Bucky has always been active, and it's hard to keep him amused when he's clearly in pain as well as bored. If his head hurts already then he can't read, and there's only so much TV he'll put up with without some other amusement. Steve offers to teach him to draw, but they give up after a few lessons. He doesn't understand how someone who was so good at math can have such little concept of scale. Besides Bucky's hands start to shake if he gets too frustrated, and Steve hates to upset him. 

The rabbit is a godsend. Bucky loves it, and it loves him, will spend hours curled on his chest letting Bucky stroke his back and ears. 

in the end, it's Clint who manages to bring some joy to those gray days. He calls Bucky one day, walks him through setting up audible on his phone. Clint's bought him pretty much every Stephen King book he'd think Bucky would like, telling him they'd come in very very handy when he'd still be running ops for the agency and sitting in snipers nests for twelve, thirteen hours at a time. 

They're an immediate hit and Steve is very very grateful for them. Bucky's willing to listen to books, as it turns out, and he instantly becomes a Stephen King junkie, consulting with Clint and Natasha both about which ones he should "read" next. 

Steve hadn't meant to get sucked in, but he does anyway, especially to the Dark Tower. Bucky alternates those ones with some of King's single novels, and while Steve likes those, Dark Tower's probably his first love. 

They spend the winter that way. Clint's kids name Bucky's rabbit, after much deliberation between the three of them - Nathaniel had put up an enthusiastic campaign for Jake - they decide on Sir Flops-a-lot.

Bucky thinks it's hilarious. Buys the rabbit a sort of knight's helmet that fits around his head without the ears, and takes a picture of that, sends it to the Bartons. 

Clint just texts back,

 

Great. Now I've got to buy a rabbit.

 

It's worth it. 

 

They don't do much for Valentine's Day. Well, Steve doesn't do much. 

Bucky buys him chocolate and roses because Steve hadn't been able to enjoy either when he'd been so ill. They eat all of the chocolates, put the roses (Two dozen roses are a ridiculous amount. Bucky admits that the listing might have been a little bit unclear, "They said this was a nice arrangement! Tasteful!"

"I think they lied to you, Buck.")

in a vase, and then sit in bed and watch "Natasha's ridiculous love movie marathon (TM)" with her, over skype. 

Nat turns out to have a weird affinity for these movies, and Steve and Bucky receive nothing less than an education in the subject. It turns out to be a genre they've both under appreciated, and Nat delights in showing them movies neither one of them have seen before. 

It's a good time, and a few of the movies will have to get a rewatch, once they have the ones they ordered off of Amazon. 

Bucky's birthday is the turning point, for Spring, or at least it seems that way to Steve. They don't do too much. Bucky wants carrot cake from the delicatessen they frequent often, and then burgers and fries for dinner. Steve takes him back to "his" bookstore, and they spend a pleasant afternoon picking out more books for Bucky's shelves. 

It's a pleasant day, and it kicks off a pleasant month. Spring comes back to the city, warmth beginning to flood back into their bones. 

They take a walk into the city the next week when the last of the snows finally melted away. They start in the zoo, wind their way through Central Park for most of the afternoon. Bucky buys them tacos and churros, he’s become quite entranced with food trucks, and he makes puppy eyes at Steve until he goes and gets him a hot dog, bringing in back to the bench they’re both curled up onto.

He sighs when he sits back down, Bucky thanking him for the food with a smacking kiss on his cheek. His jacket’s sprawled on the bench behind him and the breeze is balmy enough that he doesn’t shiver when it ruffles his hair, tickles the back of his neck where his sweater leaves it bare.

It’s been such a long, long winter - and the warmth - it’s marvelous. Steve tips his head back, into the sun, leans his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky laughs, asks, “Are you taking a nap there pal?” and Steve shakes his head. Tells him, “Just resting.”

Just being.


End file.
